


Bonfire Hearts

by atlasthend



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Zombies, Bromance to Romance, Divorce, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lust, M/M, More tags to be added, Separation, Sexual Tension, Shane Has Secret Feelings For Rick, Slow Burn, True Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:18:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasthend/pseuds/atlasthend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lori and Rick have a fight that results in their separation. Rick finds refuge at Shane's house, however he doesn't know how Shane really feels about him. How will their relationship develop with this separation between Lori and Rick? Will Shane finally find the balls to tell Rick his true feelings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Storm Brought You to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a very long fic and I look forward to posting more soon. Hopefully a few of you will like it, maybe even love it. I fear it's most likely going to turn into a labor of love.

Rick showed up on his doorstep on Saturday night, soaking wet in the downpour raging outside.  
He was sitting on the steps, staring down at his hands when the porchlight came on and Shane's screen door opened. Neither said a word, and Rick sniffed a little pitifully, taking out the pack of soggy Marlboros from his shirt pocket and shaking one out to put it between his lips.  
"I thought you quit."  
"Yeah, me too. 'S too bad I don't have a lighter. Not to mention these are all too wet to even light."  
"You wanna talk about it, Rick?" Shane wasn't one for beating around the bush. And Rick knew he wasn't talking about his wet smokes.  
The older deputy remained silent as he stared out into the rainy night, the warm glow of the porchlight casting menacing shadows from seemingly everything it touched. Finally he pulled the unlit cigarette from his lips, tossing it across the yard before he sighed and turned to look at his partner, his best friend, the man he trusted with his life.  
"Me and Lori. It's ah- It's over between us."  
Shane's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "You're shittin' me."  
Rick shook his head, sending little water droplets flying. "Shane, I don't have anywhere to go, man."  
"She kicked you out?!" Shane practically snarled in indignation.  
Rick gave him a lop-sided grin, his blue eyes soft. "I left on my own. I couldn't let Carl see things end badly between us. She was almost ready to throw her coffee mug at my head. And I just stood there like I always do when she wants to fight, not saying a word."  
Shane put a comforting hand on his wet shoulder, sighing. "How you sure it's all over between you two then?"  
"When I started to leave, she told me that if I walked out that door, I better not come back."  
"Rick, man, women say that shit all the time. She'll come 'round. Just give her some space for a little while. Trust me, I know she didn't mean it."  
"But I wanted her to. At that moment, I was so tired of all of it. All we ever do anymore is fight. We're not the highschool sweethearts kissing and holding hands in the halls anymore, Shane. We've changed since we got married and I joined the force. Everything's always strained between us now and I just-" A broken sob suddenly leapt out of his throat and he clenched his teeth, putting his head in his hands.  
"Hey, hey. Rick, buddy. It's alright," Shane cooed to him, rubbing his hand into Rick's shoulder a little.  
Rick just shook, making little broken noises as he fell apart there, on Shane's steps.  
Shane gave his shoulder a squeeze, brown eyes softening. "Come on, get in the house before you catch a cold."  
"I'll track water in."  
Shane rolled his eyes, sighing. "Ain't that what towels are for?"  
Rick followed him inside, trailed after him as Shane led him to his bedroom, where Shane dug through his closet for something Rick could wear. And the older deputy gave him a grateful, yet sad little smile before he left for the bathroom with a pair of Shane's black sweatpants and one of Shane's pale gray t-shirts.  
Shane collapsed onto his bed as soon as Rick left for the bathroom.  
Lori wasn't exactly what he would call a loving wife. Not like she'd been when she and his buddy had first gotten married. Over the years, they'd grown farther and farther apart and Rick talked about it often, their marriage problems and such. It really wasn't something Shane was fond of hearing about, but he endured it for Rick. Sometimes there are things you've just gotta get off your chest and someone's gotta be there to listen.  
Shane had tried so many times to keep his mouth shut about his feelings for Rick and had thus prevailed.  
But how much longer could he hold out? Especially when Rick and Lori were finally "over"?  
Shane dragged a hand through his hair, laying back to look up at the ceiling. He heard the bathroom door open a few moments later and closed his eyes.  
Light fell upon him as Rick opened the bedroom door, but he kept his eyes shut. He didn't want to do anymore talking tonight. He didn't even want to _look_ at Rick. Not when he was in such a vulnerable state.  
He heard Rick close the door and start for the living room and Shane silently cursed himself. He could've taken the couch and let Rick have the bed for tonight. The guy had just lost his wife, for Christ's sake.  
Shane breathed a sigh and let sleep take him, but his guilt and secrets weighed him down until he was having a nightmare that he was drowning.  
He woke up in a cold sweat two hours later and didn't go back to sleep that night.


	2. Baby, I Promise It's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane reassures Rick. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I finally updated! Yay!

Rick woke to the sound and smell of eggs frying, wafting into the living room through the kitchen, where Lori was fixing breakfast.  
He sat up, rubbing his stubbled face and running a hand through his messy, dark curls.  
Why was he sleeping on the couch?...  
Had they had another argument again-  
And then it all came flying back to him: the fight, Lori's harsh voice while she told him not to come back, Carl's wide eyes as he walked out that door... the sound as it slammed shut behind him.  


He was hyperventilating when Shane came to give him his breakfast two minutes later.

The bigger man dropped the plate he was carrying and rushed to Rick's side, practically sliding to the couch when his legs turned to jelly mid-run. Shane found himself silently thanking whatever god had told him not to install carpet in his home.  
Rick was exhaling and inhaling at an alarming rate, his blue eyes wide and his pupils small as he gripped the couch's cushions so tight that his knuckles turned white. Shane reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, brown eyes soft and concerned, but as soon as his fingertips brushed the skin of Rick's arm, the older deputy jerked away.  
He seemed to snap out of his trance, though his breathing didn't slow as he stammered out a warning, "D-Don't touch m-m-me, Shane."  
"Rick, buddy, it's okay. It's alright, I promise."  
"She's gone. M-My f-f-fault. I-It's all my fault, Shane. I left and now I-I'll never get her back. A-And Carl. Oh god, Shane, Carl."  
Shane wanted to cry. Even after Lori had practically thrown him out of the house, he still loved her. Even after she'd fought with him in front of Carl and set a terrible example for their son, he still loved her. Even after Shane had been the one there all those years, even before Rick met Lori, he still loved _her_.  
"Hey, hey." Shane reached for him again and Rick shrank from his touch, seemingly trying in vain to bury himself in the pillows adorning the couch. "I'm not gon' hurt cha, Rick. You know that. Everything's alright, bud. You just need to calm down."  
"How can I?" Rick's voice rang with misery, and when he looked up and met Shane's gaze, his blue eyes were filled with tears."How can you expect me to just magically be okay when I just-" His breath caught in his throat and he choked on a sob. "I just fucking walked out and left her and Carl!"  
Shane's eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth behind his lips. "Rick. Listen to me." When the older deputy opened his mouth to speak, Shane held up a hand, "No. Shut up. I'm talkin' right now." Shane waited until he was sure his buddy was going to keep his trap shut, then he continued, "Lori and Carl are okay. And it's not your fault. Lori was the one who made you leave. And that was a wise decision, to walk out before Carl heard somethin' he'd never get over. None of it's your fault. Understand?"  
Rick looked at him like he was crazy. But Shane could see his eyes starting to soften like it was slowly dawning on him. _Maybe it really_ wasn't _his fault?_  
Shane put a hand on his shoulder as he stood up, "I'm gonna go clean up the mess I made comin' in here."  
Rick swallowed and looked up at him, his voice quavering slightly when he spoke, "No, I'll get it. You go see if you can salvage the rest of breakfast."  
Shane gave him a smile that had Rick's stomach fluttering like it was full of butterflies for some reason he couldn't fathom, "'S alright. I made plenty more."  
The older deputy watched his partner disappear into the kitchen to fix him another plate before swinging his legs off the side of the couch and standing to stretch. He yawned as he cracked his neck and then bent to pick up the fork, plate, and all the food on the floor, wincing when he noticed the no doubt new crack in said plate.  
He made his way to the kitchen, raking the eggs and bacon into the trash on his way to the sink. "Man, your couch is a piece of shit. My neck feels like I've been sleeping on the floor all night. Which would probably be preferable to sleeping on the couch."  
Shane snorted from where he stood at the stove, "God, you bitch like a woman, Grimes." Rick grinned as he came up behind him, sneaking a piece of bacon off of Shane's plate, which was reprimanded by a smack to the back of his hand. "One thing's for sure, your appetite's bigger than any woman's I've ever seen."  
The younger deputy buttered their toast and he and Rick took their plates into the living room to eat on the couch, where the latter used the remote to turn on the television, flipping to the news. Rick stared intently at the screen even as he continued to shovel forkfuls of eggs into his mouth, and it was then that Shane realized his buddy wasn't like him. He didn't sit on his ass and laze around the house all day like Shane when they weren't on duty. His mind was always on the job.  
That southern drawl seemed to bring Rick out of the trance he was in, "Hey, Rick, buddy?"  
"Yeah?"  
"You know I don't mind you stayin' here, right?"  
Rick swallowed, "Are you being serious or hinting that I should leave soon?"  
"Why would I be anything other than serious? You been my best friend since high school, man." _And I'm completely in love with you, but don't worry, it ain't like I'm gonna hold you here against your will or anythin'._ "I'm just sayin'. You got a place here. For however long you need it."  
Rick looked down at the plate in his lap, "I know." He looked back up at his buddy, his eyes grateful and his voice soft and meaningful, "And thanks, Shane."  
Shane swallowed around the lump in his throat and quickly returned his attention to cutting up his eggs so he could shovel them into his mouth, "No problem, Rick."


	3. Reflections Can't Copy All That's Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick gets a call from Lori and realizes he can't keep kidding himself with all the smoke and mirrors anymore. It's time to face the truth.

After they finished breakfast, Rick and Shane lounged around on the couch a while, watching T.V. and swapping high school stories they'd shared about a million times over.  
Shane's booming laughter resounded through the house as he listened to Rick retell the tale of the time he got locked in the girls' locker room his freshman year when he went in there on a dare. Rick'd been scared shitless, but he hadn't been terrified enough to _not_ pop a hard-on for Christine Finch's double D's. Mrs. Rigture had found him hiding in one of the stalls when the girls complained to her that they couldn't get it open. She dragged him out by his ear and he narrowly escaped suspension.  
At the climax of the story, Shane's phone rang and he got up, still chuckling, to answer it, holding his hand up to hault Rick's story-telling. "Hello?"  
"Hello, Shane."  
Shane paled at the sound of that voice and his laughter died in his throat. He held the phone closer, swallowing, his voice little more than a whisper, "Lori?"  
"I know he's there, Shane. Put him on."  
Shane closed his eyes and held out the phone behind him, toward Rick. "It's for you, buddy."  
Rick frowned, but reached for the phone and put it to his ear anyway, "Rick Grimes speaking."  
The voice on the other end of the line almost made him drop the phone, "Good morning, Rick."  
He tried to get his mouth working, but no matter how hard he tried for words, none would come. He looked like a fish washed up on a beach, gasping for water and drowning in air. Finally he managed two, simple syllables. "Lori."  
"I was just calling to ask when you were coming to get all of your things. You left without anything. Don't you need some clothes at least?"  
Rick tried to get his brain to process her words, what they insinuated, "I can't come home." It was meant as a question, but came out as a statement.  
"I think it's better this way. Carl isn't left wondering when you're coming home everyday and I can stop worrying you'll come home in a bodybag. Rick, we... we're just not working anymore." Her voice was so calm, so cool... it left open wounds in his skin.  
He felt tears beginning to sting his eyes, "You don't mean that. Lori, you don't mean that."  
"I do. And there's nothing you can do to steer me from what I've already decided. _You_ walked out that door, Rick. You _chose_ to leave us, to leave me, to leave Carl."  
 _Please don't bring him into this._ "Lori. Lori, please. I-I'm sorry. I-"  
"You can come pick up your things on Tuesday. That'll give me time to get some of it ready for you. That way maybe you'll be gone by the time Carl gets home from school." She paused and he sucked in a big gulp of air, readying himself to pour apology after apology into the phone. "Good-bye, Rick."  
And then she was gone. Just like that. The call disconnected and the line went dead and Rick just sat there, listening to the silence. Shane watched him, eyes soft and concerned. He refrained from putting a hand on his buddy's shoulder just yet though, at least until the waterworks started up.  
But they never came.  
Rick just sat there, still as death. And Shane wasn't even sure when he moved, but suddenly he was standing and putting Shane's phone back on its hook. And then he was turning to look at Shane, his eyes dead and desolate. "I'm gonna take a shower and shave. Do you mind if I borrow your razor?"  
The bigger man blinked his wide, brown eyes and nodded, swallowing a few times. "Yeah, sure. What's mine's yours, bud."  
He watched his partner disappear down the hall and into the bathroom and then sighed, closing his eyes. It all appeared to be promising a very long, very _tiring_ day.  
Rick returned to the room a good half-an-hour later, clean shaven, with his hair dripping, and smelling of Shane's soap. That alone was enough to make Shane's dick give a happy little jerk in his pants. The fact that Rick came out with a mere towel wrapped around his hips? Oh, Shane's dick was doing _somersaults_.  
Droplets of water Rick must've missed when he'd towelled off cascaded down his chest, and Shane visualized what Rick's skin would taste like if he licked that water away, what Rick would sound like when Shane laved his tongue over one of those salmon pink nipples, what it would look like after he bit and sucked it until it turned a dark shade of angry red, what Rick's cock would feel like, rubbing up against his thigh where he'd put it between Rick's legs, what Rick's semen would smell like when Shane reached between them and jerked him to completion, then raised his cum-slick fingers to his face to get a taste.  
Rick's voice snapped him out of his fantasies, "Shane, do you have anymore clean clothes that I can borrow?"  
Shane shook his head from side to side to clear it, then stood and started walking to his room to retrieve another set of clothes for Rick. He really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. Popping monster erections in front of his best friend that he just so happened to be fantasizing about was _not_ okay.  
Rick waited behind him, giving a nod of thanks when Shane filled his arms with a black t and a pair of grey and blue plaid sweats. And then he turned and started for the door without another word to Shane.  
"Rick?" At the sound of Shane's voice, the older deputy stopped, though he didn't turn to look at his partner. "I been thinkin'."  
Rick's silence read almost like a question mark.  
"You really do need clothes, right? So, Tuesday, why don't we go and get them all together, when I get off of work?"  
Rick remained silent, but Shane saw him nod once. He started for the door again, but paused when he stood in the doorway, his back still to Shane. "Sorry about the mirror."  
And then he was gone.  
Later that night, when Shane went to get a shower before bed, he didn't question what had busted the bathroom mirror.  
Because he knew.  
 _Sometimes we all get tired of looking at ourselves and wishing we were someone else.  
And sometimes... we just need to start seeing ourselves the way someone else sees us._


	4. Breakfast of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have meaningful microwave pancakes the day Shane goes back to work.

Shane woke to the sound of his alarm chirping, gradually growing louder. He reached out to hit the snooze button, but only succeeded in pushing it off the nightstand. Its shrieking grew even louder and more shrill until it was practically _screaming_ at him to get up.  
He groaned and rolled over, pulling one of his pillows up over his head to cover his ears.  
A few minutes passed and he began to doze a little again.  
At least until the door slammed open loud enough that he jerked upright in his bed, eyes wide and full of alarm.  
Rick trudged over to where his alarm clock was still screaming bloody murder at the top of its digital lungs in the floor. He picked it up and merely flipped the 'off' switch and then turned to give Shane a tired glare, "Up."  
Shane gave him a small, apologetic smile and got out of bed, headed to his closet to get ready for work, "Sorry, Rick. You want some breakfast or do you just wanna go back to bed?"  
"Got any pancake batter?"  
"All I've got's some microwavable ones in the freezer."  
Rick snorted and started for the kitchen, hiding how pleased he was by Shane's answer. Lori had always attempted to make _actual_ pancakes. She'd never once bought the microwavable ones.  
He looted Shane's freezer while his partner was getting dressed, smiling with satisfaction when he finally found the unopened box of microwave pancakes under a freezerburnt bag of peas. He walked to Shane's microwave, all the while reading the directions on the back of the box that told him how long to put them in for.  
By the time Shane walked into the kitchen, Rick had nuked enough pancakes for the both of them and was just getting the syrup from Shane's fridge like he'd lived there his whole life instead of a whole day. Shane had to admit, it kind of pleased him in a strange way.  
He couldn't stop the smirk from forming on his lips, "How's breakfast comin' along, honey?"  
Rick gave him a deadpan glare over his shoulder as he squirted over half the bottle onto his plate of pancakes. He walked to the little kitchen table that hardly ever got used, sitting his plate down in front of a chair and going back to get Shane's plate and the rest of the syrup.  
Shane accepted them from Rick and gave a distraught little noise when he poured out the remaining meager contents of the syrup bottle onto his pancakes. "You didn't save me no syrup!"  
"There wasn't much in it to begin with, " Rick garbled around a mouthful of soggy pancake.  
"The hell there wasn't!"  
Rick cracked a grin and Shane's agitation eventually dissipated until he was grinning back at Rick from across the table.  
"You didn't have to go to work today, did you?" Shane asked, to which Rick shook his head, still chewing. "You should ask for a few more days off, least 'til Thursday."  
"You think he'd give me two more?"  
"Shit, I'll put in a good word for ya, let the sheriff know what you're goin' through. It ain't like he's some heartless son of a bitch who don't have a single sympathetic bone in his body, Rick. He's really an alright kinda guy so long as you kiss his ass the right way."  
Rick rolled his eyes and sighed, "I'll call in sometime today and ask him myself."  
Shane finished off the last bite of his last pancake and stood, walking to the sink to rinse off his plate, "Well okay. But just remember- I offered."  
Rick walked over to rinse his own plate and Shane gave his shoulder a squeeze before he started for the door.  
The older deputy listened to the sound of their patrol car making its way out of the driveway and onto the street, ears straining until he could hear it no more.  
He sighed and plopped back down into his seat at the kitchen table, putting his head in his hands. He really didn't want to be here alone right now. He didn't want to be cooped up in this house that wasn't his, not without Shane here to keep him company.  
He didn't want to be here at all actually.  
He wanted to be back home, where the smell of burning pancakes wafted through the house, and Carl was just waking up, disoriented as he stumbled down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen where Lori was burning those pancakes and Rick was draped over her back, nuzzling into the nape of her neck.  
He cried for a while, at least until the sun was finally up. Eventually though, he finally got the tears to stop and dried his face with one of the papertowels from the roll by the stove. Sighing, Rick headed for the living room again, picking up Shane's phone to dial work.  
He was put through to the sheriff's secretary who then directed him to Sheriff Wesson. He told his story to Wesson, who had, of course, already been filled in by Shane and obligingly gave him the two extra days off. They agreed that they'd count as two of Rick's vacation days. But it wasn't like Rick needed them now anyway. He didn't have anyone to go on vacation with.  
The rest of Rick's day consisted of non-stop T.V. and the wishful daydream that he had enough booze to drink all of his problems away. Or at least enough so that he could numb away that feeling of being so empty that he could liken himself to bottomless pit of nothing. He ended up passing out on the couch around eight, and though his dreams were fitful, he somehow managed to retain his slumber.  
Shane got home about an hour later, around nine o'clock, with a new bottle of maple syrup, but Rick was already asleep so he didn't get to bitch at him and tell him to stay out of it while he was at work tomorrow.  
Needless to say, he went to bed severely dissatisfied that night.


	5. A Smile Can Make Mountains Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick tries to be brave and goes to get his things from Lori's. Without Shane.

Rick woke to the sound of Shane's alarm clock yet again. He rolled over, groaning as he rubbed a hand over his eyes and sat up.  
The clock's incessant shrieking stopped before he got to Shane's open doorway, but Rick wanted to check in on his friend and make sure he'd actually gotten up and not just hit the snooze button and buried his face in a pillow.  
Shane was just pulling on a new pair of boxers in front of the closet, so Rick got flashed with the perfect round globes of his ass. He swallowed and averted his eyes, feeling a little uncomfortable. Which was strange because it was nothing he hadn't seen before. Hell, he'd seen Shane's _dick_ a few times even.  
They were both men. It wasn't like he was walking in on some woman changing.  
That thought brought him no comfort. He still felt awkward, but Rick steeled himself and watched as Shane pulled a white t-shirt up and over his head, the big muscles of his shoulders bunching up in a tantalizing way. His skin was a dark tan from his time spent outside without a shirt on, tending to the small vegetable garden in his backyard or doing yardwork for some of his neighbors. Rick swallowed again; it felt like there were knots forming in his stomach and he suddenly found his lungs were having trouble dragging in air.  
Shane looked over his shoulder at a sudden intake of breath from Rick, blinking when he met his partner's pained eyes. "Rick, man, you okay?"  
Rick nodded his head up and down a little frantically and turned without a word to the other man, heading straight to the kitchen to fix breakfast for the both of them while Shane was busy getting dressed for work.  
He poured two bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for them and sat down at the table with his. He was shoveling a spoonful into his mouth when Shane walked in and retrieved his from the counter and took a seat across from Rick.  
He watched as Rick ate his cereal, frowning, "You sure you're okay, buddy?"  
"Yeah," Rick mumbled around another spoonful.  
Shane looked down at his bowl. He was sure there was something wrong; Rick was unusually monosyllabic this morning. But he, like Rick, kept his mouth shut and the two ate in silence for the remainder of their breakfast.  
Shane left at around 8 A.M., reminding Rick of his promise that they'd go out to his place and get his things together after he got home from work around 5 P.M. later this evening.  
Rick watched him from the window as he got in their patrol car and drove off.  
That uneasy feeling from earlier still didn't leave him, but it lessened considerably with Shane's departure.  
The older deputy turned from the window, sighing as he made his way back to the kitchen to dig out Shane's ancient coffee maker from under the sink. He'd need all the extra help he could get today.

He made a grand total of three cups of coffee while he waited for his set of clothes to wash and dry. When they were all clean, he busied himself with putting them on, pleased with the way they didn't hang off him like Shane's did. He'd really missed wearing things that actually fit him.  
Though Shane's clothes did smell nice. They all smelled like him, with a faint scent almost like a combination of gasoline and fresh pine, heady and musky and distinctly masculine.  
Rick didn't realize he was holding the shirt he'd been wearing over his nose and breathing in deep so Shane's scent flooded his senses and made him close his eyes. He opened them and immediately tossed the balled up thing into the hamper.  
There was something wrong with him. Most definitely.  
But Rick just shook his head to clear it and went to get his shoes. When he deemed himself presentable, he opened the door, locked it behind him, and stepped out into the sunlight.  
He didn't know if he was ready for this.  
But he'd told himself he wasn't some pussy that needed someone there with him to face his wife. And damned if he was going to go back on a decision he'd made to help him get over this.  
So he walked the moderately lengthy distance to his house in silence, though his own thoughts were practically deafening him the entire way.  
He thought about the way Lori would probably treat him, cold and unforgiving. And then he thought about what to say to her to make her welcome him home with open arms, the perfect words that would have him right back where he belonged. But for some reason, that wasn't what he wanted anymore. He thought about why that was.  
Of course he put into account all of their fighting. But there was something more.  
 _Shane._ He'd felt more at home in Shane's house the past two days than he'd felt the last few _years_ in his own house, even if he'd been sleeping on the couch. They ate breakfast together everyday. They laughed and smiled and joked when Rick wasn't busy being depressed. Lori had been pushing and pushing Rick. Whenever she could get a chance, she was at his throat like some rabid dog. And he stood there and took it all in silence. All that pressure had built up under his skin until he was seething with the need to get out. And god, he was so happy he finally had.  
A smile spread over the deputy's lips and he threw his head back and laughed at the sky.  
And that was how he finally accepted it all. That was how he was able to ring their doorbell and look Lori in the face with a _smile_ when she opened that door.  
"Hey," he grinned, blue eyes dancing.  
She looked taken aback, "Hey, Rick."  
"I'm here to get my things if that's still okay?" He was still smiling.  
She looked even more puzzled, but stepped back so he could make his way through the doorway, "Sure, I got most of your clothes packed away for you last night."  
"Thanks. That was really nice of you, by the way," he replied politely, even though he knew Lori had packed them for him because she didn't want him to see his son. But violence? Violence was never the way to win an argument with Lori. Even if she prodded at every chink in his armor, he'd learned to fight back with kindness. It frustrated her, made her loose her wits.  
"It was no trouble. The bags are in our bedroom."  
"Alright." He went to retrieve them and found two big duffels laying on the bed. He picked them up in each hand and left the room, his eyes on the floor so he didn't have to see the pictures on the walls of the happy family of three they'd never be again.  
Lori met him at the door, and when he looked up and gave her a small smile, her lips turned up a little and she opened the door for him. He started to walk out, but then she caught him in a hug, pulling him in close and burying her face into his shoulder.  
"Rick, I'm sorry it had to be this way."  
"I am, too, Lori. But I... I still love you. I always will. You and Carl both. "  
"Stay for dinner."  
Rick's eyes widened and he blinked, "What?"  
"Stay for dinner," She repeated.  
Rick shook his head, frowning apologetically, "I can't, Lori. I have to be home when Shane gets back from work. We were actually going to come over together later today, but I wanted to come over by myself."  
"Can you at least stay until after Carl gets home? He really misses you, Rick."  
Rick's smile nearly cracked his face. "Of course I can."


	6. When I'm With You, I'm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick realizes a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy title is sappy. Enjoy.

Lori and Rick passed the time by talking about how Rick was getting along at Shane's place.  
He told her the couch was shit, but Shane could at least cook pretty decent eggs. And his washing machine and dryer both worked. There was hot water in the shower. Shane's soap smelled pretty good.  
 _Shane smells pretty good._ He refrained from telling her his recent discovery.  
Lori listened intently, asking questions here and there, but mostly just listening.  
The day went by extremely slowly since Rick was looking forward to the sound of the bus pulling up to their driveway, the hinges of its door squeaking open to let off their son. He busied himself with packing away things Lori had neglected, such as toiletries and some of his old keepsakes from school. He packed away posters and pictures and knicknacks and some of their family photos that Lori had permitted him to keep.  
Two o'clock couldn't come fast enough.  
 _Oh, but when it did._  
He heard Carl come through the front door and head up the stairs to drop his bag in his room. He was standing at the foot of the stairs when his son re-emerged, carrying a test paper for his mom to look at.  
Carl crumpled the paper in his fist running down the stairs. He nearly tripped and fell a few times. He practically _launched_ himself at Rick, throwing his arms around his father's neck and crying into his chest.  
Rick went to his knees in the floor and held his son a while, sobbing into his hair.  
He never wanted to be away from Carl that long again. _Ever._  
Lori put her shoulder up against the doorway to the kitchen and watched them with a sad little smile.  
And that was how Rick came to be sitting on their couch beside his soon to be ex-wife with their son sitting in his lap, showing them both how good he did on the science test he and his classmates had taken today in class. Carl recounted every detail of his day for them, and Rick and Lori laughed and smiled and marvelled over how amazing their son was.  
The hours went by. Soon it was four, then five, then six. Rick knew Shane was home, but he was busy eating Lori's spaghetti and having a meatball war with his son across the dining room table.  
Carl stayed up until eight, when his head started drooping into his plate of spaghetti a little. Rick carried him up the stairs to his room and Lori pulled back the covers so Rick could lay him down and then she covered him back up. They both gave him a kiss on the forehead and stood, watching him for a few silent moments.  
And then Rick was looking at Lori and she was staring right back at him.  
She leaned up as if to kiss him, and he leaned down to meet her... but pressed his lips to her cheek.  
When he pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. He pulled her in close and buried his face into the crook of her neck, murmuring into her skin, "We'll get through this, Lori. We will."  
She wrapped her arms around him and they stayed like that for a while, taking comfort from being so close. It was almost like the way it used to be. Except they both knew it could never be that way again.  
Rick knew she'd made to kiss him only because she was trying to put them back together. But they didn't fit anymore. She thought that was what he wanted. But he knew it wasn't what _she_ wanted at all.  


Eventually the two of them headed back down the stairs and Rick got all of his bags together. Lori showed him out, giving him another quick hug when he stepped out onto the front steps.  
He walked home in silence.  
 _Home?_  
 _Had he just called Shane's house_ home _without even realizing it?_  
He stopped on the sidewalk, staring down the street at Shane's house, where the porchlight remained on. He was waiting up for Rick most likely. Probably pissed or worried. Or both.  
The thought made Rick smile, though he had no idea why.  
He swung his bags the rest of the way down the street and used the pinky of one hand to ring the doorbell.  
Shane was opening the door a mere second after Rick had hit the button.  
"Hey," Rick grinned, blue eyes dancing.  
But Shane wasn't taken aback like Lori'd been. Rick's warm face was met with the coldest glare he had ever seen.  
The bigger man turned his back on Rick, who stood outside, blinking wide blue eyes.  
"You're not even gonna help me with my bags?..."  


That night, Shane laid awake in bed, staring up at his ceiling the way he always did when he couldn't fall asleep.  
He was furious at first, when he'd come home to find the house empty. Rick had left without him, so he couldn't be there to comfort his buddy. Of course he was pissed. But as the hours passed, Shane found that anger turning into worry. He worried. Worried that Rick would go back to live with Lori when it was clear the two of them were hitting it off again and Lori hadn't sent him back here immediately after he'd gotten his things.  
But then Rick had showed up on his doorstep, smiling like it was Christmas.  
Shane's heart had leapt into his throat, he was so happy Rick had come home to him. And he'd wanted so badly to grip Rick hard by his shoulders and haul him into the doorway, kiss that smile right off his lips.  
 _But he hadn't._  
Shane sighed and rolled over to stare at the wall until the alarm started shrieking for him to get up.  
 _A brand new, sleep deprived day. Oh joy._


	7. Let Me Down Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick gets his own room and his own bed and the boys listen to some music in Shane's truck. Rick doesn't like it much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like this song. And yes, my Shane likes country music because I really can't see him with any other music preference. I, on the other hand, don't listen to much of the stuff. Oh and also! I apologize for the lack of updates. I haven't been very motivated lately. As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated c:

Work was uneventful on Wednesday. Really Shane was looking forward to coming home so he and Rick could go out.  
That morning over breakfast, he had told Rick that he didn't need to sleep on the couch after tonight. He'd have his own bed to sleep in and an entire _room_ all to his own.  
 _Rick needs somethin' more substantial, somethin' more permanent. Somethin' that'll help him realize he's got a home here and he's welcome to stay as long as he needs. Preferably forever_ , Shane had thought to himself.  
The catch? Rick had to clean out the spare bedroom while Shane was at work. There wasn't much in it but a few totes that Shane had instructed him to put in the basement, somewhere water couldn't damage their contents.  
He carried totes down for most of that morning, and rested on the cool basement steps when he'd finished, his elbows back and his chin tilted up, feet splayed wide apart on the basement floor from where he sat on one of the lowest steps. Staring up at the ceiling, he was so grateful to Shane for letting him stay here. _But he was so damn curious, too. ___  
He stood and walked to the little alcove where he'd stashed the totes, opening the one on top of the stack closest to him. There he found photo album upon photo album. Hesitantly, he picked one up, holding it gingerly between his hands, and opened it up to the first page.  
A picture of a little boy, all roughed up and scruffy-looking, stared up at him from a set of wooden steps, an awkward little smile that showed some missing teeth on his bruised face. Rick pulled the picture from the album and turned it over in one hand, squinting in the dim light offered by the light bulb to his back. The writing he found there read as follows, _"Got beat for sticking up for this little guy who couldn't defend hisself right"_. With a smile, Rick realized the boy was Shane, always the protector.  
Hr flipped through the album, stopping when he found a picture of he and Shane probably from when they were both still in high school, the both of them offering the photographer a pair of shit-eating grins from where they sat in a booth at the diner that had been bull-dozed down not too long ago. He pulled the picture out and flipped it over.  
 _"Me and Rick at the diner. I don't think he'll ever relise how I feel."_  
Rick ignored Shane's terrible spelling in favor of deciphering that cryptic last sentence. He came up with nothing and decided he might ask Shane about it later. If he didn't forget.  
But as soon as he cleared the top step, he left any recollection of that question down the basement stairs with all of the photographic memories Shane had collected and preserved. His only thoughts were of the room that was to be his as he closed the basement door behind himself and started down the hall. He reached the empty room and stood in the very center, staring around at its bare walls and imagining all of the pictures he could hang on them.  
 _Pictures? Wait, pictures... ___  
The room wasn't bad either, nothing like the room he and Lori had shared, with its godawful floral wallpaper. The walls in the room were painted a noncommital beige and it was actually pretty large so Rick was sure he wouldn't feel suffocated here.  
After cleaning the room out, Rick decided to do something nice for Shane. After all, the guy had let him live with him, even let Rick have his own room. So Rick washed the dishes and did the laundry while his buddy was at work. He felt kind of lousy for not doing it sooner, but he felt damned good when he got finished.  
Rick spent the remainder of his hours alone watching TV and lounging in only his underwear. For some reason he just couldn't get the damn AC to work no matter how hard he smacked it.  
Shane came home earlier than he had Monday, an excited grin on his face when he made his way through the door. Then he caught sight of Rick in all his sweaty glory, his skin glistening slightly in the light pouring in from one of the living room windows. He was clad in only a pair of his boxerbriefs, his head resting on the back of Shane's couch and his eyes closed.  
For a moment, Shane imagined climbing on top of Rick and licking the sweat where it was gradually beginning to accumulate at the hollow of his throat.  
Then Rick was opening his eyes and turning to look at him, giving him a tired, little smile that would've melted polar ice caps. And hearts. Definitely hearts. He could be so damn cute sometimes, it absolutely baffled Shane.  
"Goddamn, feels like a fuckin' Chinese sweatshop in here, Rick. What the hell'd you do?"  
"I think your AC's broke," Rick yawned as he sat up.  
"You break everything," Shane griped.  
Rick flipped him the bird when Shane turned his back on him and went to look at his air conditioning unit. It was still unplugged.  
"Rick," Shane sighed. "Ever hear a pluggin' it up?"  
"Why was it unplugged in the first place?"  
"Because unpluggin' your electronics conserves money an' energy. I swear to God, you're just like a fuckin' woman, Grimes. No common sense."  
Rick was silent as he got up from the couch and stretched. Shane watched from over his own shoulder, trying to appear casual, though his dick was entirely too interested in the little show Rick didn't even realize he was giving.  
He finally stood and stealthily readjusted the little problem in his pants before he turned to the other man, "Alright, go get dressed. We've gotta go buy you a bed and I need a new mirror for the bathroom. We should probably see 'bout gettin' you at least a nightstand and a set a drawers to put some of your clothes and other shit in, too."  
Rick opened his mouth to apologize for the mirror again and say he'd help pay for it all, but Shane held up a hand to silence him.  
He sighed and started down the hall for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder that he was going to take a quick shower before he put on some clothes since he was covered in sweat and probably smelled like shit. Shane begged to differ, but kept his mouth shut and instead ran a hand through his hair and started down the hall for his room so he could get out of his uniform.  
He pulled on an old, threadbare pair of faded blue jeans and a fresh white t-shirt and laced up his boots as he sat at the foot of his bed and waited for Rick to finish his shower and get ready so they could head out. He put his head in his hands when he heard his buddy come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wet feet slapping the hardwood floor of the hallway as he made his way back to his room so he could get dressed. Shane sighed and tried really hard not to picture Rick, wearing nothing but that towel wrapped around his hips.  
It had become increasingly difficult for him to harbor such feelings for his friend while the two of them were living together under the same roof. It had been much easier when they were separated by Lori and Carl, when he'd only had that short block of time they spent together in their patrol car to worry about reigning in his feelings. He missed it, but at the same time, he was grateful that Rick was here with him, though it _was_ selfish.  
He sighed when he heard Rick call for him.  
Shane drove them to Lowe's in his truck, all the while Rick stared out the passenger side window and the two of them listened to the country music station that Shane's radio seemed permanently tuned to. Currently some guy who thought he was a hick and _dreamed_ he could sing was begging some woman to let him down easy if he fell for her.  
Rick snorted at the mere concept of it all and reached out to turn the radio off, then went back to staring out his window.  
"Ya not like Billy Currington or somethin'?"  
"That song's just stupid, is all."  
"Well I like it," Shane lied. It reminded him too much of the way he felt for Rick, falling for him but knowing Rick'd never feel the same, hoping that he'd let him down easy if he ever worked up the cojones to actually _tell_ Rick how he felt.  
Still, the ride was more awkward without the music in the cab of his truck.  
It was harder for Shane to keep his mouth shut.  
He was almost glad when they returned home hours later, a mattress, box spring, bed frame, and a mirror in the back of his truck. They carried it all in and Shane set to work putting up the new mirror in the bathroom while Rick was busy in his new room putting the frame of his bed together.  
That night Rick went to sleep on a new bed of his own, with a spare comforter and pillows and sheets that he'd borrowed from Shane. They smelled like him, though Shane had told him they'd been in his closet for almost a year.

The next morning, it was Shane who woke Rick, who had his face buried in his pillows because he'd fallen asleep breathing in the scent of them.


	8. So Much (For) Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick goes back to work. Sheriff Wesson is an awesome boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I'm doing the small-town cop some justice. I actually know virtually _nothing_ about how police departments work.
> 
> Also, sorry for the wait and the fact that this chapter's so short xD Chapter nine'll be a little longer, I promise!

Thursday finally came and Rick was absolutely thrilled with the idea of going back to work. Ha. _Not._  
They had to eat their Jimmy Dean biscuits in the patrol car on their way to the station since it'd taken so long for Shane to get Rick up.  
And when Rick walked into the station, he got so many looks from his co-workers that he'd have evaporated through the floor if he could've. The only thing that stopped him from running right back out the door was Shane's hand on his shoulder, a comforting weight, grounding him and giving him the courage to walk through the station with his head held high.  
And even though it was no doubt Shane's big mouth that had told everyone that he and Lori were getting a divorce, or at least something to that effect, he couldn't blame his friend.  
Shane was like a brother to him.  
He'd met the freshman who was to become his best friend during his senior year of high school. And they spent that year laughing and joking and doing everything they could to get into trouble. Rick had been a scholarly student before he'd met Shane, who'd been wild at heart all his life and damned proud of it. Because of Shane, Rick almost hadn't graduated with his class. But it had been worth it because that year was the best of his life. And ever since then, they'd been glued at the hip, almost inseparable. Until Lori. 

But Lori wasn't there anymore. 

Together they arrived at the door to the sheriff's office and Rick nodded Shane off so he could talk to the old man alone. He opened the door and Wesson looked up expectantly. Then Rick walked in and his stern, wrinkled face seemed to soften along with his cold, blue eyes. His voice was kind, "Grimes. I'm sorry to hear about your situation at home, son."  
Rick gave his boss a sad, little smile, "Thank you, sir. Shane's letting me stay with him for the time being actually. I'm excited to be back at work."  
"Maybe it's for the best. Help ya get your mind off it all. Anyway, it's good to have you back, Grimes."  
"Good to be back, sir," Rick answered truthfully. Because when it came down to it, he loved his job. He just hated all the scrutiny he was getting in the other room.  
"Why don't you and Shane go out on patrol today. I've got some paperwork for you to fill out from Friday, but that can wait till tomorrow."  
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."  
The sheriff gave him a smile and Rick walked back out of his office.  
And immediately all eyes were on him.  
He kept his head down as he walked to the water dispenser, suddenly feeling like his throat was closing up. But as he passed Leon Basett's cubicle, he felt the sleeve of his shirt being tugged on. He looked down and the green-as-grass deputy was staring up at him curiously. "Hey, Grimes. Is all that stuff that I been hearin' true? Did your wife really toss you out on your ass?"  
Rick came so close to puking on him. Or punching him. He wasn't really sure which was more likely.  
Luckily, however, Shane came to his rescue, pulling him from Basset's dastardly clutches like he was Rick's knight in shining armor. "Hey, Basset, why don't you leave him alone? Ain't you got some paperwork to be doin'?"  
At the tone of Shane's voice, Basset let go of Rick's sleeve and frantically started shuffling around papers on his desk.  
Shane grabbed Rick by the elbow and guided him back out the front door and into the parking lot, where Shane opened the passenger side door of their car and plopped a still-seemingly-in-shock Rick into the seat. He took his place in the driver's seat and started the car.  
A few minutes passed in silence, the only sound the soft purr of the engine, then Rick spoke, "Thanks for the save back there."  
"Don't mention it, partner."  
And that was it. The rest of their day was pretty much just issuing speeding tickets to the poor, hard-working citizens of King County.  
They had lunch at Arby's that day. Shane managed to fit five roast beef sandwiches into his stomach before he was whining that Rick was going to have to drive for the rest of their shift. Rick laughed and humored him.  
And the two of them went home that night with smiles on their faces.  
Secretly though, Rick dreaded going back to work tomorrow. He had paperwork to finish. Which meant working in his cubicle at the station. Which meant he'd be surrounded by his curious co-workers. And Shane wouldn't be there to save him this time.  
 _Joy._


	9. Wagers and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's second day back is paperwork at the station. He really wishes he was _anywhere_ else. Then the boys go to the local cafe. Bar. _Thing._ (To celebrate?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so, SO sorry that it's taken me this long to pick this back up. For however many of you are still interested in this story, I'm now intending to update weekly on Mondays and chapters will also be a little longer.

The start of Friday morning was _Hell._ There was literally no other way Rick could think of to describe it.  
He and Shane clocked in around eight, like usual, and the look on Shane's face when he walked out the door had Rick's knees nearly buckling. He'd given him this apologetic smile like he knew he was throwing Rick to the wolves and there was nothing he could do about it. Almost as soon as Shane was out that door, the wolves were at his heels, begging for a bone to slobber all over.  
As Rick had suspected the night before, Basset was the first yet again to confront him about the collapsing foundation of his marriage and family, leaning back in his chair to stare over at Rick from the cubicle beside his. "Heya, Grimes."  
"Morning, Leon."  
"So?"  
"So what?" Rick had to work extra hard to keep out the venom he so wanted to inject into the tone of his voice.  
"So 'bout you and Lori?"  
Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb, leaning forward in his chair. "Can we talk about this later? I've got some paperwork to get done, Leon."  
"Awh, come on, Rick. Be a pal. I'm just curious, 's all."  
"My wife and I are getting a divorce." Rick's voice was suddenly laced with the promise of murder. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you _all_ wanted to hear?"  
The room was completely silent. There was no sound whatsoever, not the clacking of keyboards, or the scribbling of pencils, or the shuffling of papers.  
 _Dead silence._  
And then laughter. Someone was _laughing_.  
"I think it's what the female officers wanted to hear!" Someone called and Rick could feel his face begin to heat up.  
The room was suddenly filled with laughter and smiling faces and at first, Rick thought they were jeering at him, rubbing it in his face. That was until Turner and some of the other guys came over during lunch to tell him how sorry they were about what he was going through.  
Rick had been sitting alone in his cubicle while the other officers all mingled or went out to eat in their cars. He'd felt a hand settle on his shoulder and jerked up in his chair, turning to look behind him with wide, surprised eyes.  
Turner gave him a grin and patted his shoulder to show Rick he'd meant no harm and his buddies gave a chuckle. "Grimes, we're real sorry to hear about you and your wife, man. And we're all hopin' your little boy don't have to go the rest of his life without seein' his daddy neither."  
Rick was abruptly taken aback, sure he'd fallen asleep at his desk and he was dreaming this all up because Turner was never sorry. He was probably the most jovial out of all of King County's officers. And he didn't give a damn at whose expense he got his laugh.  
"Listen, man." Turner's grin turned mischievious. "We was thinkin'. Since you're gonna be single an' all soon. We wanna make a bet."  
"A bet?" Rick stared up at him, slack-jawed and dumbfounded.  
Turner nodded, "A bet. On how long it'll take a'fore you get laid again."  
Rick felt his face redden once more, " U-Uh."  
"I'm bettin' two weeks!" Jake called around a mouthful of sandwich from where he sat at his cubicle.  
"Bob's bettin' a week, Jim's bettin' two months, Dick's bettin' a month and a half, and there's a whole bunch more." Turner's grin turned absolutely cheshire, "And I'm givin' you a whole month, Grimes. Don't disappoint me now, ya hear?"  
Rick remained speechless, so Turner smacked him on the back a few times, laughing. " Hey, man. We're goin' drinkin' after work tomorrow. You should come. As long as you don't take no hot piece a ass home with you, I'm fine with it."  
Rick finally got a handle on himself and offered the man an uncertain smile, "Sounds like fun. I'll see if Shane wants to-"  
"Hell yes, I wanna go!" Shane's voice right by his ear had Rick nearly jumping right out of his skin. "Hey, Rick, I brought you a roast beef sandwich, man."  
When Rick finally managed to even his breathing and slow his heartrate down to an acceptable speed, Turner was finished giving details to Shane about their plan to meet at King County Cafe tomorrow night at eight.  
And Shane was grinning down at Rick with a mischievious little glint to his warm, brown eyes, "You okay down there?"  
Rick flipped him the bird and glared down at his desk while he ate his sandwich.  
After their shift was over, Shane let Rick drive home. The smug bastard hadn't stopped smirking the whole rest of the day after lunch. Now he was just laying back in the passenger seat, the corners of his lips still turned up into the most annoying, shit-eating grin Rick had ever seen.  
The older deputy risked a haphazard glance over at him and Shane just grinned right on back. Rick resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead chose to engage in conversation. "So how much did you hear of what Turner said?"  
"I heard him ask you to have a drink with him and the boys," Shane shrugged.  
"You didn't hear any of the stuff before that?"  
"Man, I came in when Turner and the boys were laugin' like a pack a hyenas and Turner was busy breakin' your spine with his open hand."  
Damn. Shane had walked in right after all the embarrassing shit had already run its course. _Thank God._  
"Why? Somethin' else he said to you?"  
"He said the station had some kind of bet going on."  
"Bet? On what?"  
 _On how long it'll take for me to get laid._ "You'll definitely hear about it eventually."  
"Why can't you tell me now?"  
"Shane, it's embarrassing, man."  
"Alright, alright. Fine. I'll ask Turner about it tomorrow," Shane waved off Rick's obvious annoyance with the bet as Rick parked their patrol car in Shane's driveway and the two of them got out and started up the steps.  
Rick really hoped Turner didn't let his partner in on their little wager.  
Shane had made fun of him enough for the week.  
Good thing it was almost over.  


Saturday was full of anticipation. The station was pulled taut as the string of a hunter's bow, mentally steeling himself to take the shot and fire an arrow into his prey.  
Everyone was keyed up and excited for their little get-together tonight. Rick really wasn't sure if he was supposed to call it a celebration or not, but he supposed if anything, Turner and the boys had asked him to come in an effort to cheer him up. Maybe the boss had put them up to it.  
His suspicions were confirmed when he and Shane were returning from patrol to clock out and go home. The sheriff called him into his office with a big grin and Shane gave him a thumbs up, "I'll wait for ya in the car."  
Rick walked in after his boss, who sat behind his desk and gestured Rick to take the chair in front of it. "Evenin', Grimes."  
"Evening, sir," Rick replied, a little surprised at Wesson's gleeful tone and pleased expression.  
"I hope to be seein' you down at the cafe later tonight."  
Rick blinked, "I wasn't aware that you were coming, sir."  
The sheriff waved him off, "I'll be there to eat, drink, and be merry with the rest of you boys, don't you worry."  
"O-Okay, sir," Rick gave him an uncertain smile that was returned with beaming eyes and a grin as wide as the entire state of Georgia.  
"Now you get along now. I'll see you at eight tonight."  
"Yes, sir." And with that, Rick exited the station.  
As he stood out in front of the building, he squinted in the mid-day sun, looking for Shane in their patrol car. His buddy suddenly pulled up in front of him and Rick jumped back. Shane got a laugh outta that one. And the whole ride home, Rick sat in the passenger seat with his arms crossed over his chest as he glared out the windshield and refused to even acknowledge Shane's presence. Which made Shane even more satisfied with himself.  
They got home around six since traffic was so bad. That left them with two hours to each get a shower and get dressed.  
Shane looked particularly good when he got out of the shower with a small, white towel that barely managed to wrap around his big hips and a big smile across his lips, a certain glow about him like the water hadn't only rejuvenated his body, but his spirits as well. Rick shook his head. _Had he really just thought that Shane looked good half-naked?_  
He waited ten minutes for the hot water to replenish and then took his own shower and hopped out to get dressed. Unlike Shane, he took relatively short showers, so he was in and out in probably less than fifteen minutes. And it took him less than that to throw on a new pair of boxer-briefs, a pair of jeans, and his threadbare ACDC t-shirt.  
His best friend was waiting out in the truck for him, wearing an old, holey pair of jeans and a white t-shirt under an open, plaid button-down.  
Shane gave him a grin as Rick plopped down in the passenger seat and the older deputy reluctantly returned it, "You're sure in a good mood."  
"Why shouldn't I be?"  
Rick shrugged and reached out to turn on the radio. It seemed Shane's good mood was infectious because he didn't even mind Shane's stupid country music. He might've even tried to sing along with Shane when something came on that they both knew.  
Eventually though, they pulled into the cafe's packed parking lot and Shane shut the radio off and pulled the keys out and they hopped down out of the cab and started for the little restaurant together.  
Rick came through the door and was immediately greeted with the smiling faces of _all_ of his colleagues. He blinked, taken aback at the sight. Had he missed something or...?  
The sheriff stepped up and took his hands, "I thought you'd never get here, Grimes."  
"Um, sir-"  
"Alright, everyone! Should I tell him?" Shouts of "hell yes!" and similar things from the crowd erupted in response.  
"Tell me what-"  
" Grimes," Wesson looked at him meaningfully and Rick swallowed. "I'm retiring, son." Before he could get another word in, he was interrupted.  
"And the old man wants you to take over for him, so we're puttin' together funds to help your election campaign!" Turner shouted from the bar.  
Rick was shocked into silence.  
 _What._  
After a few moments, he felt Shane's hand on his shoulder and swallowed. "I-I don't know what to say," he finally confessed.  
The sheriff gave him a wide smile, "You don't have to say anything, son. I know you'll do a great job. That's why I picked you for this. Of course, all of y'all'll hafta pitch in with the bake sales 'n shit." His blue eyes danced with a mischievous twinkle. "But I know you'll do alright, Grimes. You always do."  
"How long have you been planning this?" Rick blurted out before he could stop himself.  
The old man gave a knowing chuckle, "Way before you and Lori, son. Trust me. You deserve this. You're one of the best deputies I've ever had, Rick."  
Rick almost teared up a bit at the fond usage of his first name. Wesson never called them by their given names. That was reserved for those he was particularly close to.  
"I'm honored, sir," Rick smiled back.  
The sheriff clapped him on the back and Rick glanced over at Shane, who stood at his side with a proud smile. And then he was being led over to the bar, where Wesson exclaimed, "First round's on me!"  
The rest of the night he had beer after beer shoved in his direction, and because he was too sweet to decline them, he ended up drunk as a skunk.  
Shane and Rick were nearly the last to leave at almost midnight. And Shane absolutely _dreaded_ driving home with Rick in such a state because he'd seen his buddy drag himself to the bathroom at least three times to puke his guts up. He didn't want that shit in his truck. But still, he managed to get his giddy, giggling partner to claw his way up into the cab and sit in an upright position with his head lolling on the back of the seat.  
Surprisingly, Shane made it home without having to pull over so Rick could hang his head out the door and empty his stomach contents again.  
However, he still had to let Rick lean on him to get him across the yard to the steps. And the steps were even more of a challenge. Shane practically had to _carry_ him up those. But finally they were at the door and Shane was fumbling with the keys with Rick plastered to his side. Just as he got the door open, Rick's breath blew over the back of his neck and goosebumps formed over his skin. And when he turned his head, eyes wide, Rick looked back at him, his eyes dazed, but somewhat aware.  
Rick leaned in. And kissed him on the mouth.  
Shane manhandled him the rest of the way inside. Then he couldn't get the front door shut and locked fast enough, but when he finally did, he had Rick backed up against it, kissing him fiercely. Rick moaned into his mouth, parting his lips for Shane's tongue. The bigger man shoved him against the wood harder, grinding his erection into Rick's hip as he thrust his tongue between those wanton lips. Rick gave a muffled cry and reached up as if he wanted to knot his fingers in Shane's hair to pull him closer. But then his hands fell and Rick went limp with his Shane's tongue still in his mouth.  
Shane pulled back, confused, and Rick slumped against his chest.  
 _What. The. Fuck._  
 _Bastard was asleep!_  
Shane stood silent and still and utterly disappointed for a few minutes. And then he sighed and half carried, half dragged Rick to his bed.  
That night he lay awake in his bed, alone again.  
And he didn't feel any remorse as he snuck a hand into his boxers and got himself off by fantasizing about what could've been.


	10. They Say Dreams Are Secret Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has a dream and things get awkward.  
> Or:  
> The boys recover with ice cream and soaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Points for those who catch the Supernatural reference. Sorry, I really couldn't help myself lol and this chapters a little shorter than the last one, but I promise chapter eleven will more than make up for it next week.

Rick writhed beneath a huge, masculine body, his lips parted in a desperate, silent plea for mercy. Currently, his torso was being attacked, his nipples worshipped, sucked and bit and kissed with a mouth so talented that Rick could only dream of what it would feel like on other parts of his body. A pair of large, rough hands stroked down his sides and pushed at his boxers insistantly, almost like the owner of those hands had an extreme dislike of all underwear ever made.  
Rick inhaled sharply when those hands started to pull down the offending boxers, sharp knuckles cutting into the flesh of his outer thighs, and Rick's already hard cock gave a small jerk as it was washed with cold air. His underwear were manhandled off of him and tossed away, but Rick didn't care if he ever found them again in that moment. Because the mouth that had been sucking at his nipples was slowly moving down his chest and stomach, pressing kisses into his flushed skin. It stopped at the top of his navel and a tongue flicked out and traced around it until Rick was moaning things like "More" and "Lower" and "Oh god, _please_."  
Finally that mouth was kissing the rest of the way down between his legs, using the thin line of hair that trailed to the patch of his darker pubic hair as a guide. The head of his cock brushed stubble on the underside of a hard jaw and Rick couldn't contain another moan.  
He laced his fingers through short, curly, dark locks and moaned again as that talented mouth enveloped his cock. He had to resist the urge to thrust up into that delicious heat, so he opened his eyes and tried to focus on something else. He risked a glance down at the man sucking him just as that mouth popped off the head of his cock and a tongue darted out to lick at the slit where pre-cum teared up, and Rick could've cried from the pleasure, except-  
Shane stared back up at him, dark brown eyes filled with lust and want.  
Rick jerked awake in bed, gasping, his cock pulsing sharply and making him wince.  
Evidently he'd moved too fast because his head was suddenly spinning and he had to lay back down again till he wasn't seeing two of everything. He spent a few minutes just laying there, staring up at the ceiling in stunned silence and giving his erection time to wilt. Like hell was he touching himself after dreaming something like that. But his subconscious mind ached to touch, ached to build up an orgasm based on the images that it had created while he slept. Rick closed his eyes, feeling his heart give a guilty twinge. Shane was his best friend, for chrissakes. He couldn't be having dirty dreams about him.  
And for the record, he wasn't gay. And it wasn't like he had anything against the gay community, but he found it hard to believe that he could ever be counted among them. He'd been a straight man a majority of his life, he was pretty sure that counted for something. The dream had to have been hangover-induced. That was a much more reasonable conclusion since it wasn't like he felt _anything_ sexual toward his best friend. Or at least that was what he told himself.  
The next time he tried to sit up, he did it slower and more cautiously. He made all of his movements that way, from swinging his legs over the side of the bed to making his way down the hall to the living room. He took a seat on the couch and reclined his head on the back of it with a grunt.  
Shane was up in the kitchen, nursing a bottle of root beer and Rick was acutely aware of how dry his mouth felt just then, but he couldn't bring himself to even look over at Shane and ask him to bring him one.  
Which was okay because Shane didn't look at him either.  
And Rick nearly drove himself crazy trying to catch Shane looking at him.  
 _But he just._ Wasn't. _Looking._  
 _WHY wasn't he looking?..._  
Rick almost shook his head to clear it, but refrained from doing so because of his godawful hangover. Instead he did what he always did when nothing else helped him to shake off his thoughts. He talked. "So I take it you didn't get completely shit-faced last night like me, right?" _Oh god, his voice was so deep. He sounded like he'd swallowed buckets of phlegm in his sleep._  
Shane shook his head, but still didn't look at him, instead staring out the window above the sink in the kitchen where a bluejay was perched on a branch of the little maple tree beside his house, grooming its feathers. Shane was sure if it hadn't been there, he'd have stared out the window pretending it was, just to avoid looking at Rick when he finally replied. "I barely had two beers, buddy. Somebody had to drive your wasted ass home."  
Rick was thoughtful for a moment, then tilted his chin further back and looked up at the ceiling. So apparently Shane had had to drive him home last night, he was so drunk. He supposed he kind of deserved the monster headache currently pounding away in his skull as if it was a band of prospectors with their pickaxes. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Shane looking at him and barely managed to hide the way his breath caught in his throat with some wild, outlandish exclamation.  
"I want ice cream," he declared out of the blue.  
"Ice cream?" Shane looked puzzled. "You don't eat cold foods or dairy during a hangover, Rick. You eat greasy foods like hamburgers and frenchfries and shit. Grease sops up alcohol."  
"If I want ice cream during my hangover, who are you to tell me I can't have it?"  
"I'm not tellin' ya, I'm just sayin', man. You're gonna regret it when you get a brainfreeze or puke your guts up or some shit. And I don't want you bitchin' at me when that happens."  
"So you have some then?"  
"I got a box of those fudge bar things, yeah," Shane sighed as he opened the freezer and pulled out the box. He walked into the living room a few minutes later and plopped down beside Rick on the couch, who could feel his face heating up from their close proximity. He accepted his fudge bar from Shane, who started eating his own. Rick found himself immediately regretting his decision to ask for ice cream. He should've known better, what with the way God hated him so much.  
It was really _awesome_ that Shane just so happened to have the only kind of ice cream that Rick should have been dreading, that these happened to be the thin ones, the ones that had a particularly _phallic_ shape to them. Thus, Rick found himself staring down at his own lap in an attempt to not stare at Shane, who was currently working the fudge bar between his lips, sucking and licking and creating obscene slurping and smacking sounds with his lips and tongue that happened to be _far_ too lewd. So much so that they had Rick shifting uncomfortably where he sat on the couch beside Shane while his cheeks grew rapidly hot and his dick stirred in his pants.  
He suddenly grew acutely aware of just how much he hated ice cream companies.  
 _Assholes. Shaping their products to look like penises._  
Shane looked over and Rick attempted to hide his red face and the erection sprouting from his lap. His friend looked concerned, "You okay, man?"  
"I'm fine," Rick huffed.  
Shane shrugged and picked up the TV remote. "If you say so," he said, flipping to a bad soap opera set in a hospital where a male doctor with the face of an angel was trying very hard to get into his attractive female nurse's pants. Of course, they used delicate words and didn't put it quite as bluntly as Rick had in his thoughts.  
"Why are we watching a Doctor Sexy M.D. marathon?"  
"Because there ain't nothin' else on," Shane defended himself, but he hadn't even looked at the guide once, so the statement was an obvious lie.  
"So you like this show." Rick had to work really hard to try to keep the grin out of his voice.  
"Now it ain't like that!"  
"Ya know, Lori used to watch this shit."  
"Shut up," Shane huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back further into the couch's cushions, subconsciously hoping they'd swallow him before Rick noticed his heated cheeks. He was aware that most of the show's viewers were women. Women in their forties probably having midlife crises and grasping onto anything that made them feel younger, like watching some suave twenty-something clad in a white lab coat and a pair of cowboy boots woo a new nurse every week. Just because he watched the show didn't make him one of them, dammit."I got invested in the characters, alright?"  
Rick snorted a laugh and leaned back beside him. Their knees touched and Shane felt like an electric current was traveling through his body.  
They sat like that almost the whole day and eventually Rick's eyes seemed to adhere themselves to the screen. The show was actually pretty riveting if you paid attention, and with Shane's helpful commentary and explanations of who was into who and who was having problems at home and things like that, Rick could actually follow the story. He'd actually expected to see more shirtless men than he did, which was a welcome surprise, though he found himself wishing for one man in particular to take off his shirt. Along with the rest of his clothes. Just so Rick could see if he was just as desirable in reality as he'd been in a dream. Rick maintained that it had to have been hangover-induced desire. He couldn't really want Shane like that. _Could he?_  
The marathon went off at nine o'clock, but even after the two of them had parted ways at the hallway and Rick had gone to his room and laid down in his bed, he didn't want to close his eyes, for fear of what he'd dream that night. 


	11. Wondering What the Future Holds for Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Shane get a visit and are informed that they have plans for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm incredibly sorry for not updating on Tuesday on schedule! You wouldn't believe the insane amount of homework that prevented me from providing you with this chapter as I'd promised. But oh well I guess, at least I had the time to post it tonight xD

Work that Monday was better since Rick wasn't getting looks that made him want to slice his wrists. Most of the looks he did get were faces full of awe and admiration and fondness because of what had happened on Saturday. A few other faces wore knowing smirks, also because of what happened on Saturday- him puking his guts up and all.  
Turner and his boys came over to congratulate him again. They all laughed at when he told them about his horrible hangover on Sunday. And then Turner started in with talk about the bet. Unfortunately, Shane happened to be right beside him.  
"So you didn't go home with a honey that night, did you, Grimes?"  
"I couldn't even keep my food down, Turner. How the hell did I take a girl home with me?"  
"You don't necessar'ly need to eat nothin' to have sex, Rick, buddy," the other man answered.  
Shane seemed to perk up at the words, "What's all this I'm hearin' about sex?"  
Rick wanted the floor to swallow him in that moment.  
"Oh ho ho, Shane ain't heard about the bet we got goin' on?" Turner's grin turned malicious and Rick could feel his ears grow even hotter.  
"Rick told me ya'll had a bet goin', but he wouldn't tell me what it was all about. Said it was embarrassin'," Shane replied.  
"Since he's gettin' divorced, we was all takin' bets on how long it'd take him to get laid again," Jim explained.  
Shane looked at Rick, who stared down at his desk without saying a word to any of them. Then the bigger man looked back at Turner, "How long you bet?"  
"A whole thirty days," Turner replied easily. "You gonna make a bet too?"  
Shane swallowed. It was tempting to set a bar for himself. And if he had Rick in that time that he set, he'd have a whole pile of money, too, apparently. He wanted to, but it felt a little wrong. Like he was cheating. And also it didn't seem fair to Rick either. If he was frantically gunning to get into his best friend's pants, where would that leave the both of them?  
He decided he was overthinking it. It was just some stupid bet. And it wasn't like Shane had a hope of _ever_ getting into Rick's pants anyway. "How much?" He grinned and Rick's head snapped up.  
"Thirty per bet," Turner smirked back at him.  
"Fine. Six months." Shane pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed his obnoxious co-worker three ten dollar bills that he pulled from its folds.  
"Whoa. You got a lotta confidence in your boy's sexual prowess, there, Shane," Bob laughed sarcastically over Turner's shoulder. "That's the longest bet we've had yet."  
Shane gave him a grin in return, "It's not that I don't have confidence in him. It's just that I know Rick. And he's the type of guy to restrain himself till he's absolutely at the end of his rope. And he don't take a girl home the night he meets her, guys. He's a real gentleman- takes her out on dates and romances her till she falls inta bed with him willin'ly. An' I promise I ain't gonna sabotage or cockblock him none neither."  
Rick stared up at him in awe. Then he shook his head with a laugh, "God, Shane. You play me off like some kinda saint."  
"Well you kinda are," Shane gave him a toothy smile.  
Turner rolled his eyes and turned to get back to his desk, where his piles of paperwork remained, "Like a couple a newly-weds, I swear."  
The remark put both of them on edge. Neither would look at the other for the rest of their work day. When work ended and the two of them got into their patrol car to head home, though, it was like all the awkwardness between them evaporated like water on some hot, summer day. They were laughing and smiling and cracking jokes when Shane pulled onto their street. But the laughter died when the pair caught sight of the car parked in their driveway. _Lori's._  
"What's she doin' here, Rick?"  
"I don't know," The older deputy confessed as Shane pulled in behind the other car.  
Rick's wife and son were sitting on the front steps. Carl's eyes lit up when Rick got out and caught sight of him and Lori smiled as she watched her son race down the steps and into his father's arms. They hugged until Carl pulled back to look up at him and Rick ruffled his hair affectionately. "Hey, Carl."  
"Hey, Dad," his son grinned. "Mom came to talk to you."  
Rick looked up at where she still sat on the steps, "Why didn't you call work and tell me you were coming?"  
"Carl wanted to surprise you," Lori said with a small smile.  
Rick was silent for a few moments. At least until Shane stepped up beside him and snatched Carl up, folding him over his shoulder and carrying him up the steps like he weighed nothing, even while he wriggled and squirmed and laughed, yelling for Shane to put him down. He patted Lori's shoulder on his way to the door and turned to look at Rick, still standing there, stunned.  
"Wanna unlock the door, man?" Shane gave him a grin.  
Rick shook off his stupor and started up the steps. He almost dropped the key a few times, but somehow managed to get the door open. Shane disappeared into the house with Carl and Rick turned to Lori. "You wanna come in?"  
"I was thinking we could just talk out here," Lori turned to look over her shoulder at him and Rick's breath caught in his throat. She was too beautiful in the hot, mid-day sun, with a light sheen of sweat making her dark hair stick to her pale throat, her hazel eyes soft and inviting.  
Rick came to sit beside her without another word.  
"I wanted to talk to you about well. Carl."  
"Are we going to share joint custody?"  
"They'll put his best interests first. They might even put into consideration what he wants too, Rick."  
"You'll need a steady job or they're not going to let you keep him at all, you know."  
"I've already started looking around town."  
"That's good."  
The two of them were silent for a while after that. The conversation was more than a little awkward, and just sitting there on Shane's steps together and not exchanging a single word might've been even more so. That was until their silence was eventually broken by Shane's booming laughter.  
"Hey! Hey now! That's cheating! You tripped me- Hey! Now I ain't a horse!"  
Rick and Lori both cracked smiles and Rick stood and helped her up. Her hand was soft in his as he traced his thumb over her knuckles and he suddenly found himself staring at her the way he had over a decade ago, when he was young and naive at nineteen. It had been a warm, summer day and her hair had stuck to her flushed, sweat-slick skin, not unlike the way it had today. She'd been beautiful then, her usually flat stomach just beginning to show the telltale signs of a life within and he was so filled with pride he was practically bursting at the seams as he stood behind her, pushing her in the tire swing that hung from a branch of the old oak in her parents' front yard. He'd urged her to her feet, gotten down on one knee, and slipped a tiny, golden ring onto her finger right then and there just because he couldn't let that beautiful day go to waste. He couldn't let himself forget how beautiful she'd been on that beautiful day either. But he couldn't be thinking about her like this again. He just couldn't.  
Her voice brought him out of the memory. "I don't know how many times I've got to say this to make myself feel better, but I'm sorry, Rick." She looked at him with meaningful eyes and Rick just stared, transfixed for a moment. And then he was smiling again, turning the doorknob and ushering her inside.  
"Come on then. Let's see what they're into now."  
They found Shane in the kitchen, laying on his stomach and being ridden like a horse. While Shane glared up at the two of them, Carl gave them both his widest grin.  
Rick steeped forward to pat Carl's head with a laugh, " You show him who's boss, Carl!"  
"I think he's had enough," Lori snickered. "He looks down for the count."  
Shane gave her a wink and raised up till he stood on his hands and knees, then reared up suddenly and Carl held on for dear life, his blue eyes blown wide. Shane dropped back down with a wide grin and the boy scrambled to get off. After Carl had dismounted him, scuttling away to see what else he could get into, Shane stood up with a snort, brushing the dirt from his front, "Just because I'm down don't mean I can't get back up."  
Rick gave Shane a roll of his eyes and then turned his attention back to Carl, who was flitting around the kitchen, looking for junk food he could eat. "You and Shane must starve, Dad."  
"And why is that?" Rick asked without even attempting to hide the amusement in his voice.  
"There's nothing to eat in here!"  
"That's a load of bullsh-"  
"Shane," Lori chided.  
The bigger of the two men in the room rolled his eyes, "There's food everywhere."  
"Like where?" Carl asked.  
"I think we'd better go, Rick. It looks like Carl's getting hungry," Lori chuckled.  
Rick watched as Shane showed his son the contents of the freezer, where he kept foods like microwavable pancakes and hot pockets an ice cream. Carl seemed awestruck, but at Lori's words he turned to look at his parents with his most disappointed expression. "Aw, Mom... I don't wanna go home yet," he pouted and Rick felt a twinge in his heart.  
Lori sighed and looked at Rick. Suddenly her eyes brightened like she'd gotten an idea. "Would you like to keep Carl overnight on Wednesday so I can go job hunting?"  
Rick gave her a smile, "Of course I would."  
Lori returned his smile with a grateful one of her own and hugged him good-bye before she walked to the door, calling over her shoulder for Carl, who gave both Shane and Rick quick hugs, then raced out after his mom.  
That night Rick went to bed with a smile and had the most pleasant dream of his life.  
Of course it had to be about Shane.

Rick was wrapped up in a strong pair of arms, staring up at a starry night sky in the back of Shane's truck, country music that wasn't necessarily fitting, but still comforting, winding serpentinely out into the moonlight around them from the rolled down windows of the cab like smoke from a cigarette as the two of them lay in their makeshift bed, revelling in the warm night air together, Shane on his back with Rick a solid weight against his front, curled up into his side with his head on Shane's chest.  
The smell of Shane's sweat mixed with his usual musky scent was driving the older deputy crazy, making his body heat up, and soon he found his cock stirring where it was pressed against Shane's outter thigh. He bit his bottom lip, contemplating whether or not he should act on his libido's behalf, but eventually steeling himself mentally before shifting closer to Shane, pressing a tentative kiss over the bigger man's heart before he laid his head there.  
Shane had to feel Rick's hard length against him, had to, but his heartbeat was a dull thud in his chest with Rick's ear pressed against it. It only sped slightly when Rick shifted so he could reach down and unbutton Shane's jeans. Then it became a jackhammer as Rick slid his hand under the waistband of Shane's boxers to grip the half-hard cock he found there. The bigger of the two men let out a breathy moan that made Rick swallow and pull his hand back out, nervousness frying his resolve. Shane flipped them so he could stare down into Rick's eyes and Rick looked up at him shyly, feeling suddenly so insecure about himself.  
But as he looked up at Shane, he realized he didn't need to.  
Shane smiled down at him, reached out to cup the side of his face in one hand, and leaned down to catch Rick's lips in a long, slow kiss that had Rick's toes curling and his lips parting. Shane's tongue dipped between them and Rick couldn't help the muffled moan that he released into Shane's mouth. Shane moved like the waves of the ocean above him, dipping low as he licked his way in between Rick's eagerly parted lips, then pulling back to press gentle kisses to them before he was leaning back in to tangle his tongue with his partner's, his fingers curling around the sides of Rick's face and holding him there, stroking his thumbs over Rick's warm, clammy cheeks.  
But all too soon, Shane was pulling back and giving him a teasing grin before he rolled off him and onto his back beside him in the truckbed.  
After a few moments of stunned silence, Rick hesitantly rolled onto his side and put a hand on Shane's chest. Shane barely opened one eye, his lips turning up at the corners. Encouraged, Rick leaned in to press a kiss to those upturned lips and Shane wrapped his big arms around Rick.  
The two of them made out in the back of Shane's truck until the sun began to rise over the hills, soft and slow.  
And then Shane was banging loudly on his door, yelling for him to get up.  
Rick rolled over and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling as his cock throbbed in his boxers. He had an urge to reach down and slide his hand under the waistband, maybe get in a quick one just to relieve himself before he had to get dressed and go to work, but he repressed it. That just wasn't like him at all. And the fact that he was thinking about doing such a thing after he'd just had a dream about being with _Shane_?  
God, he needed a Tylenol and a few cups of coffee to wash it down with. Maybe some kind of experimental drug or something made to help people forget their dreams.  
The older deputy swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood with a yawn before walking to his closet to get dressed.  
He heard Shane rummaging in the kitchen and vaguely wondered what the two of them would be having for breakfast as he pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers. He was just tucking his shirt into his pants and buckling his belt when Shane poked his head in the doorway with a smile, "Hey, Rick."  
Rick returned that smile a little reluctantly, " Morning, Shane."  
"What you wantin' for breakfast?"  
Rick shrugged his shoulders and squeezed past Shane through the doorway, calling over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom, "Surprise me."  
He brushed his teeth and combed his unruly hair and then walked into the kitchen, where Shane was just sitting two bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch on the table. He gave Rick another smile, this one a little mischievious, "I'm bein' lazy today."  
Rick laughed easily, "That's fine, man. Nobody said you had to make a feast."  
Shane smiled all through breakfast.  
Rick was sure something was up, but he was content to eat breakfast in silence, sure that Shane would tell him if there was some important reason for his unusually good mood so early in the morning. But then maybe he was just _happy_?  
The two of them both rinsed their bowls in the sink and Rick followed Shane out the door, noting the spring in his buddy's step as they walked down the small set of stairs to where the cruiser waited cheerfully in the driveway.  
The early morning sky was a dim gray, though no clouds could be seen overhead, thus the day promised to be a nice one. The birds chirped and sang in the trees and the temperature was pleasant. It seemed like _nature_ was in a good mood today.  
Rick shook his head with a frown and plopped down in the passenger seat. Shane got in beside him and Rick swore he'd been _whistling_.  
The two of them pulled into the station's parking lot about fifteen minutes later. The drive had been silent, yet pleasantly so. Rick had stared out the passenger side window while Shane drove them to the station with upturned lips and a gleam in his eyes that made Rick want to ask him what he was planning.  
There had to be _something_ going on today.  
But he didn't ask and the two of them walked into the station to clock in.  
The older deputy hadn't been expecting all the smiling faces that awaited him.  
_Was he in a parallel universe or something-_  
"Grimes," Sheriff Wesson interrupted his thoughts, calling from his office. Shane practically pushed him toward the door.  
He stood in the doorway awkwardly before Wesson motioned for him to come in and take a seat. Rick swallowed and gently shut the door behind himself and went to occupy the chair in front of the sheriff's desk. Then the elderly man offered him a smile and Rick wanted to cry. _He knew it, he'd woken up in one of those fucking Twilight Zone episodes-_  
But when Wesson opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was, "You've got plans this weekend, Grimes."  
Rick looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head, "Excuse me, sir?"  
"On Saturday the station's holding a baseball game to help raise funds for your campaign, son."  
Rick barely seemed to comprehend the words and Wesson waited patiently for him to finally speak. When he did, all that came out was, "Uh."  
The sheriff's smile grew wider, "We're holding it Saturday morning at 8 A.M. Think you and Shane can make that?"  
Rick nodded hesitantly, sure that Shane had known of Wesson's plan all along. That was why he was in such a good mood today. "Of course, sir."  
Wesson gave him a nod in return, "Good. Now you and Shane be careful out on patrol."  
Rick stood, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "We will, sir."  
The rest of the day, Shane was a beam of sunshine in the passenger seat beside Rick. He even smiled at the people they pulled over for violating traffic laws or speeding.  
It was probably one of the strangest days of Rick's life.


	12. Maybe Seeing From a New Perspective Would Make Him More Perceptive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl stays the night over at Shane and Rick's place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm so friggin' sorry about the late updates! I blame school :c also, I'm running out of pre-written material for you guys, so I have no idea when the next update will be. Fingers crossed for sometime next week! And thank you all so much for the kudos and comments. They mean the world to me.

After their shift was over on Wednesday, _Rick_ was the one violating traffic laws and speeding.  
Lori had called that morning to remind Rick of their agreement that Carl could come and stay the night at Shane's place with him. He'd barely been able to finish his breakfast, he was so ecstatic. And Shane noticed how out of it he was, rolling his eyes with a grin, so he'd been the one at the the wheel for the day. At least until work was over. After they'd clocked out, Rick had practically raced him to the car and launched himself into the driver's seat.  
About five minutes later, they arrived at Lori's. It would've been a fifteen minute drive if Rick had been doing the speed limit. Shane had to stop him from turning on the siren, hoping to hasten things even more so he could get to his son faster.  
Rick pulled the car into the little driveway and left the keys for Shane, nearly tripping over himself in his race to get up the steps and ring the doorbell. Shane grinned as he pocketed the keys and got out, the gravel of Lori's little driveway crunching under the tread of his boots before he abruptly shut the passenger side door and went over to Rick's side to shut the driver's side door with a fond roll of his eyes. Lori was just opening the door as he turned around. She gave him a smile before Carl nearly bowled her over rushing past her.  
The boy jumped into his father's outstretched arms and Rick gave a delighted laugh. Lori watched the two of them with a pleased smile and Shane looked on in wonder.  
Seeing Rick like this, overjoyed and with eyes only for his son, after he'd last seen Carl only two days prior... Shane found himself wondering what it'd be like, having his own family- a wife, a kid, the whole shebang.  
He felt like he'd be a failure at it. Sharing a small living space with a woman he could call his own was something that should've sounded nice to Shane, but he thought about how short his own fuse was, the most likely short amount of time before he blew up in front of some pretty, little thing who had forgotten to turn off one too many lights or something to that effect. Shane liked women, he did; they were nice to look at and he'd had tons of girlfriends in highschool, but not many of them seemed to have much common sense. Then again, Rick didn't seem to have much either, but Shane was willing to forgive that because well, he was Rick. He just... he couldn't get past what he felt for his friend. God knew he'd tried over the years, but he never could think of himself with anyone, permanently anyway, but Rick.  
He thought about having a kid of his own, maybe a little boy like Carl. Shane absolutely adored Rick's son, but he wasn't so sure how well he'd have turned out had Shane been his father instead of Rick. Shane doubted he had even half of the fatherly touch that his buddy did. Rick knew how to discipline a kid, but Shane looked at Carl as someone he was obligated to spoil rotten. And Shane wasn't wise and knowledgeable like his partner, couldn't give his kid a lick of help when it came to school work besides math or even advice on personal things because Shane himself was rash and tended to act on his emotions, not think things through. And on top of that, he'd barely made it through high school and the only real skills he had were things that required a lot of common sense, not book smarts. If he had a kid of his own, he'd worry that they'd turn out a lot like him. And that wasn't a good thing at all.  
But then he wondered what having a family with Rick might be like. And an image of Rick standing over the crib that Shane had made for the new baby girl they'd adopted came to him. Rick stared down at her where she slept, warm, tired eyes keeping vigil over her until Shane was coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around the older deputy's waist, nuzzling his nose against the stubbled side of Rick's face. Maybe the baby had kept him up all night, but Rick would still turn his face and catch Shane's lips in a soft kiss.  
"Hey, Shane," Carl's voice pulled out of the daydream.  
Rick's son was smiling up at him. He reached down and mussed the kid's hair, grinning back down at him like he hadn't just been crushed witnessing his own fairy tale ending he knew he'd never get. "Ready to go, little man?"  
Carl nodded his head, smiling before Shane pushed him back a step and started running for the patrol car, "In that case... Race ya to the car, kid! And if you win, you can have the keys!"  
Carl dashed after him with a laugh and Rick shot Lori a smug little grin and a roll of his eyes as he climbed the rest of the steps to get his son's bag from her. "I'll make sure he brushes his teeth before he goes to bed tonight." Then he raised his voice so that the little brunette currently climbing into the driver's seat could hear him, "And he _will_ go to bed at nine o'clock."  
Lori reached out to ruffle Rick's hair with a fond laugh, "I know you'll take good care of our son, Rick. Just don't forget to drop him off at school on your way to work tomorrow."  
Rick leaned in to give her a small peck on the cheek and a reassuring smile, "I won't, I promise." And with that, Lori watched Rick turn and walk down the steps to his patrol car and tried not to imagine it was just a normal day and he was going to work, he'd be back before dinner, they'd watch TV on the couch with Carl after he got home from school, he'd kiss her before they went to sleep, and she'd fix him burnt pancakes in the morning. Things could never be like that again, she told herself remorsefully as he got into the passenger seat beside of Shane and immediately began talking animatedly to their son. Shane backed out of the driveway with a nod to her before they disappeared down the street.  
There had always been something about the way Shane looked at her. It wasn't something she'd ever really been able to put a name to. But what she'd seen in his gaze... she was sure it was _pity_. Like he knew she'd thrown away the only thing that had kept her sane this long. Like he was sad for her, but not sad enough to feel any real remorse about being so happy with him-  
_Wait, what?_  
_Shane and Rick?_  
_Had her mind really just come to the conclusion that the two of them were_ together _?_  
She shook her head to clear it as she turned to walk back inside the house. Hopefully she'd be able to get some housework done with Carl gone for the day before she went out job hunting.  


Rick watched his son throw his book bag on the couch, ruffling his hair as he passed him and made his way into the kitchen, Shane at his heels. The younger deputy pushed past him to the fridge, "Move, man. I'm hungry."  
Rick rolled his eyes and settled on putting his head under the kitchen sink's spicket, swallowing down gulps of its water to quench his thirst. When he came back up for air Shane was busily spreading peanut butter and grape jelly over six pieces of bread, "Dinner, anybody?"  
Carl snorted as he made his way into the kitchen, "You can't fix PB&J sandwiches for dinner, Shane."  
Shane glanced back over his shoulder at Carl with a smirk, "Well why cain't I?"  
Carl returned the smirk and gave Shane the line he'd heard from his mother nearly all of his life, "Because I'm a growing boy, that's why."  
Rick laughed out loud. "Shane's just pullin' your leg, Carl. It's lunch." He gave his son a knowing smile, "So. You got any homework?"  
Carl's face fell, "Yeah. Math. I don't get it though, Dad."  
Shane finished putting the sandwiches together and turned to give Rick's son a smile, "I may look like just another hick that didn't graduate from high school. But I _did_ and I was actually pretty good with that stuff way back in the day. Maybe I can help you understand it."  
Rick gave him a smile that made Shane go weak in the knees and the younger deputy swallowed the lump in his throat along with the bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his mouth as he went to sit down on the couch with Carl to help the little guy out with his math homework. Rick, however, stayed in the kitchen, pulling out his cellphone to call the pizza place.  
"What do you want on your pizza, you two?" He held the receiver against the side of his neck as he waited for the call to connect.  
"Pepperoni," They both answered in unison and Carl gave the younger deputy a wide smile which Shane returned with one of his own that stretched from ear to ear. Rick only laughed and ordered their pizza.  
About twenty minutes later, the pizza arrived and fortunately by then Shane and Carl were all done with the latter's homework.  
They ate at the little dining room table, all smiles as Carl told stories from school and Shane and Rick listened to them attentively. Rick particularly picked up on the feelings that Carl had but didn't understand for a girl in his class named Sophia.  
"So I was pushing Sophia on the swing at recess because she told me she'd play army men with me after that and then these guys came over and started laughing and singing that stupid kissing song. Sophia can't even climb a tree, Dad. But anyway, Sofia and me chased those guys off. We shook our fists and yelled and threw mulch at them. She was awesome, Dad. And the way she bared her teeth like some rabid dog was so cool!"  
"Aw, he's a'crushin'," Shane grinned, his brown eyes twinkling with a glimmer of mischievous laughter at Carl's expense.  
"I don't like her like that, Shane!" Carl recoiled a bit from the big man who sat across from him at the little table, but Shane's words had him flushing red from head to toe.  
"A course you do!"  
"That's like you an' my dad!" Carl spit back with a repulsed sneer. He didn't mean for it to look like he didn't approve of the relationship he thought the two men had, because he did, but he was a kid and all love was supposed to repulse him.  
Rick chuckled, an awkward little edge creeping into the tail end of his laughter. "Well that's certainly a kind of love, Carl. But I'm not so sure it's how you feel about this little girlfriend of yours-"  
"She _ain't_ my girlfriend, Dad!"  
Rick tossed Shane a look of loathing from across the table for influencing his son's speech so negatively, but he found Shane staring down at his pizza like the pepperoni hid the true meaning of life. He frowned and then turned his attention back on his son. "Do you love her like a brother then?"  
Carl blinked back at his father, frowning, "Well yeah, but... you and Shane, Dad-"  
Shane lept up like his pants were on fire. "Everybody all done with their pizza? We could go out in the backyard and play football!"  
Carl swallowed down whatever words he was about to say and jumped out of his chair, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, "Sure!"  
Rick frowned but nodded, "I'm up for it if Carl is."  
Shane gave a relieved smile and went to retrieve the pigskin from the box of junk in his closet, glad he'd successfully averted the conversation he wanted to avoid for as long as possible. Rick telling him that they could never be more than friends, even though he already knew it to be true, would absolutely shatter his fragile heart, he was sure. Really he only wanted to avoid the uncomfortable way the conversation would most likely rub the both of them. That and he wasn't sure he'd be able to hide his true feelings if Carl brought them to light for his partner. Rick stared after him, perplexed, but shook his head to clear it. Shane was obviously hiding something, but Rick was just too dense to see it. Carl seemed to know the answer, but he was afraid to ask his son. And if he was honest with himself, he was a little afraid of the answer.  
Carl reached out to grab his father's hand, pulling him toward the back door and out of his thoughts, "Come on, Dad! Let's kick Shane's butt!"  
Rick showed his son exercises to get pumped to play while Shane was busy digging the ball out of the mess in his closet and trying to get his head on straight. He'd had too many close calls with his buddy lately... By now he had to have caught on in some way and was figuring out what was really going on in Shane's head. It was only a matter of time before he realized that those "brotherly" feelings weren't so brotherly at all. Shane wanted to curl up and die, but all he could do was compose himself and head outside with the football to where Rick and Carl were snarling and growling at each other in the backyard.  
_That sure made for an interesting picture._  
Shane grinned as he stood in the doorway and watched them together, father and son both making animal noises or yelling and hollering nonsense just to get their heads in the right state of mind and let off some steam before playing. He snickered to himself and Rick, evidently hearing him, straightened up and acted like he wasn't just acting like he was all of ten years old again when he noticed Shane was watching them.  
"Got the ball, Shane?" Carl asked excitedly.  
Shane gave him a wide smile, holding up the ball so Carl could see it as he started toward the two of them, "Sure do, little man!"  
"Get the ball, Carl!" Rick yelled as he launched himself forward at Shane and the two of them went down in a sudden flurry of hands and feet and curse words from Shane.  
Rick's knee somehow ended up wedged against his dick as the two of them were moving around, Rick desperately trying for the ball and Shane frantically trying to keep it from the other man. It was a miracle he'd somehow managed to keep hold of it when he went down. But then, he did play football in highschool; he'd been number twenty-two on their highschool's varsity team.  
Now it was pretty easy for Shane to get an erection with Rick on top of him to begin with, but with that constant, rubbing kind of pressure that was Rick's knee pressed up between his big thighs? A soft moan escaped his lips and Rick recoiled from him, blue eyes wide and indignant. Shane looked up at him apologetically, his cheeks beginning to flush with color, "Sorry, man-"  
But that was when Carl joined the pile, ripping the football from Shane's hands and running toward the other end of the yard with it. When he reached the fence, he stopped and threw it down on the ground as hard as he could, yelling, "Touchdown!"  
Shane rolled his eyes and Rick laughed and got up off of him, the awkward moment between the two of them seemingly forgotten as he held out a hand to his friend still on the ground. Shane accepted the hand and was helped to his feet. He started to apologize to Rick again, but the older deputy only held up a hand, "It's fine, Shane. It was my fault anyway."  
Shane readied himself to say something more, maybe even confess his feelings ( _"Damn right, it's your fault. Every hard-on I've got this past year's somehow been your fault and I'm so tired of it, I swear to god, Grimes, I'm going crazy-"_ ) before he even knew what was on the verge of coming out of his mouth. But then the football came flying at him from Carl's direction and the words died in his throat.  
The three of them played football for a long while. At least until the sun started going down. Then they all went in and Shane laid out some blankets and pillows on the couch for Carl, who brushed his teeth in the bathroom under the watchful eye of his father. Shane bade them both goodnight when he passed the bathroom on the way to his room.  
A few minutes later, Rick was tucking Carl into his makeshift bed on the couch and Carl yawned, hugging his father before Rick pulled the sheets up around his son's neck, "Dad, I like Shane."  
The sheriff's deputy smiled down at his son, "I like him too, buddy."  
"Why can't Shane be my dad?"  
Rick frowned, feeling a little inferior, "Because I am, Carl."  
"Yeah, but why can't Shane be my dad too?" It was clear that every word was a struggle for the boy at this point, his eyelids drooping and the words coming out slurred, but Rick understood them nonetheless.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Like... Like..." But Carl was finally nodding off to sleep, his eyelids fluttering closed as sleep crashed over him and claimed him like the waves of the sea and Rick smiled down at his boy, the greatest joy of his life. He stooped down to press a kiss into Carl's hair, then turned quietly for his room. 


	13. Heartache Always Catches Us Unawares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane has some urges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it's been over a year since I've updated this. So let me start by apologizing for letting this go unfinished for so long. And let me assure you that I do intend to finish it. Life has gotten in the way. And since I'll be starting college in the fall this year, its bound to get in the way again. So don't be surprised if this story goes unupdated for months on end. It won't ever be for a whole year again, I hope. Please continue to be patient with me. And also let me just say that I adore every one of you for leaving me such nice comments and encouraging me to write more of Shane and Rick. I hope you continue to enjoy their story.

Rick opened his eyes gradually and found that he'd actually been awakened by the strands of hair tickling his nostrils.  
He looked down with a confused smile to find his son curled up beside him, his little head tucked in under Rick's chin and his skinny arms wrapped tight around his father like he was more likely to fall off the edge of the world than the edge of the bed. Rick chuckled under his breath, grinning as he disentangled himself from Carl and made his way into the hall and then into the living room.  
He found his partner awake in the kitchen, making them all breakfast. Shane had the radio by the stove on, the soft melody of Zeppelin's Rain Song barely audible over the popping of the bacon in the frying pan.  
Rick gave him a smile as he passed him on his way to the fridge to get himself a glass of orange juice, "What? You get tired of that country shit you call music and decide to break into my CD collection?"  
"Somethin' like that," Shane replied with a smile of his own."Heh. Act'chully this is better 'n I thought it'd be."  
Rick nodded appreciatively before he took a big gulp of his orange juice, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why didn't you get me up when you came in here? I could've helped."  
Shane merely shook his head, "I don't need no help. This kinda cookin's always been pretty easy for me." He cracked a grin, somewhat bashfully, "'Sides, I didn't wanna wake you 'n Carl. Y'all looked real peaceful in there."  
Rick gave a soft laugh. "Yeah. Wonder why he came to sleep in my bed last night?"  
"The heat kicked on last night. Probably scared the kid a little. Man, it _is_ gettin' pretty cold lately."  
"It was up in the seventies the other day when I couldn't get your AC to work."  
"Yeah, but winter's a'comin'. It'll be here 'fore you know it. We got lucky 'n had a pretty warm fall so far, but that just means it'll be a hundred times worse when the snow hits."  
Carl trudged into the kitchen then, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his hair sticking up in all directions, "Morning, Shane."  
Shane's face brightened automatically, a wide smile spreading over his lips, "Mornin', buddy."'  
Rick reached out to muss to son's hair with a smile which Carl sleepily returned, "Morning, Dad."  
"Morning, Carl," Rick returned fondly.  
"So how'd you sleep, kiddo?" Shane began forking the eggs onto the three plates that lay before him and then scraped the bacon in the pan out onto them too.  
"Good," Rick's son lied. His voice quavered slightly and Rick frowned, concerned.  
"Did you have a nightmare, Carl?" The older deputy asked, drawing his son in close to his side.  
Carl looked down at his feet, "I don't wanna talk about it, Dad."  
Rick sighed, but didn't press the issue, "That's fine, son. But I'm here if you ever need to talk to someone."  
Shane turned to give the kid a soft smile, his and Carl's plates in hand, "I may not be your dad, but you know you got me too, little man. And don't you forget it neither."  
Carl nodded and grinned up at the big man before he followed him to the table. Rick shook his head with a grin of his own, amused. He retrieved his own plate and joined them.  


And ten minutes later Carl was getting ready for school while Shane and Rick got ready for work.  
The younger deputy was shaving when Rick came into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He'd been so quiet Shane hadn't even known he'd come up behind him before he caught sight of him in the mirror and nearly jumped out of his skin, knicking the underside of his jaw with the razor in the process, "Shit!"  
Rick was at his side in an instant, "Whoa, what happened?"  
Shane rubbed at the cut, frowning discontentedly, "It's nothin', you jus' scared me is all."  
"You're bleeding, Shane," his partner chided.  
"Yeah, I know. I'm just glad it wasn't my throat I had the thing pressed to when you came up behind me," Shane chuckled.  
Rick shook his head and retrieved a washcloth from the cabinet beside the sink, wetting in and turning to tilt his buddy's chin up, "It doesn't look too deep, but we'll put some antiseptic and a band-aid on it just in case. Shit, man, I didn't mean to scare you."  
Shane couldn't stop the light blush that spread over his face while Rick had his head tilted back, soothing circles into the skin around the cut. Instead, he imagined Rick pulling the cloth back to expose the wound and leaning forward to press his lips to it, tongue darting out to lap at the drop of blood welling to the surface before he pulled Shane in closer, kissing down Shane's throat and popping the buttons of his shirt open so he could get at his chest...  
Shane stifled the moan in his throat and it sounded like a choked-off noise of pain.  
"Shit, did I hurt you?" Rick asked with a concerned frown, pulling back from his partner.  
Shane shook his head, turning from Rick hastily, "No. I, uh. I can do the rest. Thanks, Rick."  
"You're welcome." Rick's frown deepened, but he left Shane to treat the cut by himself and walked out of the bathroom to check on his son. "Oh, and let me know when you're done."  


They got to the school about fififteen minutes before class was supposed to start.  
As they pulled up in the police cruiser, Rick couldn't help noticing all of Carl's peers staring, eyes wide with awe and mouths slack-jawed.  
His son laughed when Rick leaned back over the seat to muss his hair and give him a stern look that was ruined by the mischeivious gleam in his eyes, "Now you be good so me and Shane here don't have to come back and make you ride in this car for real, alright, Carl?"  
Carl nodded, a wide grin spreading over his face, "I'll be good, Dad. I promise. And thanks for letting me stay over and taking me to school, Shane."  
Shane glanced back at the kid from over his shoulder, smiling, "No problem, bud. Anytime."  
And with that, Rick's son was getting out of the car to go talk with his friends by the basketball hoops and the older deputy was watching him go, a fond look in his eye. He started when Shane flipped on the siren for a brief moment so their Cruiser gave a happy little chirp as they pulled out of the school parking lot and headed toward the station. Rick rolled his eyes when his partner noticed how he'd jumped a bit at the sudden noise and Shane gave him a wolfish grin.  
The drive with a silent one, though pleasantly so, with Rick staring out of the passenger side window and Shane sneaking occasional glances over at him from the corner of his eye.  
But the station was in disarray when they arrived.  
Upon pulling up to the building, they found an ambulance, noting it's still flashing lights as they passed it to get into the station's parking lot. And upon walking in, they found themselves overwhelmed at the sheer volume of people crowding the small building; everyone in the cubicles all stood, their eyes trained on the back of the station, where paramedics bustled about, talking animatedly and hurrying to and fro from the Sheriff's office to the front door.  
"Hey, Turner, what's goin' on?" Shane asked the deputy in his cubicle over by the water dispensor.  
Turner looked pale and worried, "James went in there to hand the sheriff his report on that drug bust last week, and Wesson was in the floor, siezin'. They're sayin' he just had a stroke, but man. For it to happen here of all places. Shit."  
Shane shook his head, "Man, that's some shit, for sure."  
Rick focused his attention on the door to the sheriff's office, which stood ajar. He could barely see just inside, where some of the EMTs were crowded around Wesson's form on the floor, their backs to the door. Rick drew back as a stretcher on wheels flew past him and stopped just inside the door. A few moments later, the paramedics were wheeling an unconscious Sheriff Wesson out of his office and past all the gawking deputies and officers to the ambulance that waited just outside.  
The two of them watched as the stretcher was lifted up into the back and the doors shut before the ambulance drove away. They felt a little like their world was collapsing around them, both of them slack-jawed and looking like a pair of guppies washed up on the shore. Rick didn't even realize everyone had their eyes on him until a few minutes have passed and he'd shaken off his stupor, turning to look at them all.  
Apparently someone had neglected to inform him that he was in charge now.  
"W-Well don't all of you stand around like bumps on logs. We've got work to do, even if the sheriff's out of commission. Get on the phones! Calls are still coming in regardless of what's happening here, people!" And just like that everyone was in motion, like they'd been the gears of a machine and something had gotten lodged in them and Rick was the only one that had managed to pull it out, like he was some strange, modern-day rendition of King Arthur.  
He turned to Shane, shaking his head, "I wasn't ready for this. Not so soon."  
His partner gave him a sympathetic look, "What do ya need me to do, Rick, man?"  
The older deputy bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. It distracted Shane until he was staring blatantly at Rick's mouth and thinking about taking Rick's face in his hands and pulling him in for a kiss in front of the entire station. Then he realized how bad that idea really was.  
"I guess we need to fill in for Wesson to the best of our abilities. So paperwork and filing. I don't think we should sign or do anything really important unless we get the okay from the sheriff. I say we pay him a visit at the hospital tomorrow and bring in that kind of thing for him to look at. And we'll need to keep a close eye out and make sure everyone's doing their work and not busy gossiping about what happened today," Rick said finally.  
"Well alright then," Shane replied with a smile. "Lead the way, boss."  
Rick rolled his eyes, but headed toward the sheriff's office without a word, Shane trailing after him. It was a little strange, having to right a chair that had been tipped on its side less than fifteen minutes ago because his boss had had a stroke in it. Nevertheless, he righted it and then took a seat in the comfy, little desk chair and Shane pulled the one from across the desk over to Rick's side so he could sit next to him in it and help Rick with the paperwork and such.  
Shane was a little disappointed that Rick didn't seem to want to actually do much more than said paperwork. Even a little smalltalk would've been nice. It was pretty boring, just sitting there and organizing things into neat, little stacks as Rick instructed him. And the office smelled heavily of Wesson's aftershave and cologne, something that was probably at least thirty years old and definitely not as pleasant as the bottles of Old Spice shampoo and body wash that he was now sharing with Rick. It was funny to think about all the things that Rick and Shane now shared, come to think of it- a bathroom, razors, maple syrup, clothes, ice cream, the list could go on for days. Shane couldn't help smiling at the evoked memories of the past two weeks, but he knew the one thing that he was happiest to share with Rick would always be his home, the very roof over their heads.  
He didn't think he could live in a world where Rick was all alone, where the only constant companion his friend carried was loneliness. Rick had had Lori and Carl for so long, it just didn't seem right to think about Rick without a soul to come home to after work. Shane had been alone practically all his life . His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was just a baby and the only thing he'd had to remember them by was pictures. He'd been raised by his grandparents, both of which had eventually passed away two years after he'd graduated from the police academy. And of course Shane had never really had a steady girlfriend or anything like that. Sure, he brought women home, but not one of them had ever been anything more than a one night stand to him, just a way to get his rocks off and have some fun every now and again. Even in high school, he'd been hesitant to date, and despite the jealousy-inducing and often hilarious stories that Shane told Rick, he'd only ever felt anything for the girls he dated in maybe two of his numerous "relationships." And here he was, pining for his best friend. It was fuckin' sad, really.  
"Hey Shane, can you go put these over in the second drawer of that filing cabinet over there?" Rick's voice broke through the barrier of his thoughts and Shane blinked a few times before he nodded and stood, taking the papers that were handed to him.  
That was basically all that their day consisted of. Sitting on their asses in silence and doing paperwork. And while it was a whole hell of a lot less demanding than driving around all day, issuing tickets and answering distress calls and the like, Shane had never been so glad to fall into his bed at the end of a work day in his life.  


The next morning, Shane woke to the smell of eggs and bacon, his stomach rumbling so loudly that it actually startled him and he sat up in bed. Immediately, he noticed the plate on his dresser, piled high with a mountain of fluffy, golden scrambled eggs and greasey bacon, with a piece of toast on the side. He grinned as he got up and stretched, yawning loudly, before he walked across the room to retrieve the plate. It was then that Rick stuck his head in the door with a smile, "Mornin', Shane."  
"Best way I think I've ever been woke up before, Rick," Shane managed to get out around a mouthful of eggs he'd speared on his fork, grinning like it was Christmas.  
"Does it taste okay?" Rick asked, sounding worried.  
"Oh, hell yes. You could be a chef, Rick. Shit, if you were on one of them cookin' game shows, you know you'd have my vote." But he knew that even if his breakfast _hadn't_ tatsed like heaven on Earth, Shane would've answered with a hell yes.  
Rick's answering expression could've rivaled the sun. His face broke into this toothy smile that made his beaming blue eyes crinkle up at their corners, and Shane swore it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The sight sent him into a coughing fit, nearly had him choking on his eggs as he turned his back to Rick to cover his mouth. Rick's hand on his shoulder in the next second made him jerk slightly, but he managed to swallow down the last of the coughs and reached up with one hand to wipe the tears brimming in his eyes.  
"You okay?" His buddy's concerned voice was right next to his ear as Rick rubbed soothing circles into the center of Shane's back with the flat of his palm.  
"Jus' got a lil choked, 's all," Shane nodded, swallowing. "A drink'd be nice about now."  
"I'll bring you one; you get dressed. We've gotta get to work soon. Who knows what kind of mess the station'll turn into without someone there to oversee it," Rick called over his shoulder as he started down the hallway to the kitchen.  
Shane closed his eyes and sighed before he walked over to his dresser to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers. He dressed in the uninterrupted silence of his room, for once distracted by its empty walls. Shane didn't know why he'd never had any desire to expressively lay claim to the space he'd specifically set out for himself in the house. He didn't really have a single thing in his room that was any clue to the fact that it was his besides the clothes hanging in the closet and folded neatly in the dresser. Not a single photo or poster or piece of memorobilia of any kind could be found on the barren, beige walls that stared in at him like a representation of his sad life. He had a house, yet he was afraid to stake a claim on it in that way. The same way he had everything that he could ever want, right there in that kitchen, getting him a glass of orange juice probably, and nothing to show for it.  
He walked into the hall just as Rick appeared at the other end, clad in his uniform and smiling as he held up the glass of orange juice Shane had just been thinking about, "Hey."  
Dammit, if it wasn't the perfect morning, Shane didn't know what was.  


That day they headed out in their patrol car, bullshitting about the weather since the baseball game to raise funds for Rick's campaign was supposed to be tomorrow.  
"Man, I dunno how we're settin' this up yet, but if we get put on different teams, your ass better hope it rains us out tomorrow or else everyone's gonna see me wipe the floor with their future sheriff," Shane laughed from the passenger seat over the roaring static of their CB.  
Rick tossed his partner a grin as he turned into the station's parking lot and pulled into a space beside Leon and Lambert's patrol car, "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like to have me on my hands and knees with everyone watching." And with that, Shane was suddenly blinded by the image of Rick crawling toward him, an audience with their eyes trained on him as Shane looked down at his partner with hooded, lust-filled eyes and reached down to unzip his pants before Rick rose up on his knees and pulled Shane's shirt up, leaning in to press his lips to the taut, well-toned abs of Shane's stomach. The barely-there stubble of Rick's jaw rubbed into his skin like grainy sandpaper with every lingering kiss, but it felt so damn good that it had Shane's head rolling back on his shoulders and his eyes rolling back in his head and his mouth going slackjawed before he moaned a low _Fuck yeah_ as Rick licked a stripe down his stomach from the start of that dark trail of hair at the bottom of his navel leading all the way down to the patch of darker hair that Rick nosed through before he got his mouth all over Shane's cock and-  
"Hey, Shane, you coming?"  
Shane shook his head to clear it and his eyes focused on Rick, staring in at him from out of the driver's side window of the cruiser. "Uh. Yeah, I'll meet you in there in a minute, man. I was just... I was. Yeah."  
Rick gave him a confused look, but turned for the front doors of the station with no questions asked. And Shane had never been so grateful that Rick was the kind of guy who'd rather chop his own hand off than pry into another person's personal business. Because at that moment, Shane knew he wouldn't have been able to think of a single excuse as to why he'd zoned out in the first place. Or why it looked like he'd just popped a fuckin' Viagra.  
Dammit, these fantasies were really getting out of hand. He couldn't keep living like this. He couldn't keep having these filthy thoughts about his best friend pop out of the middle of nowhere and proceed to get him all hot and bothered while Rick just talked about innocent, little things that would mean nothing to anybody else.  
_Maybe Shane just had to tame his libido._  
The thought had never occured to him before, but looking at it now, it seemed like a reasonable idea. Maybe if he got off with an actual person, without having to fantasize about Rick, then Shane would be spared from these thoughts. For a while, at least. And so he sat there in the patrol car for almost fifteen minutes, plotting out a way to end his suffering, before he finally got out of the car and walked into the department.  
Friday was exactly like the day before, nothing but paperwork and sorting that into piles that Rick either signed or would take to the hospital this evening when the two of them were supposed to visit Wesson, except Shane could tell that Rick was in a more pleasant mood, even going as far as getting them both a bottle of water and a bag of chips from the vending machine out front without Shane having to ask him first. Digesting the soft, little smile that tured up the corners of Rick's lips while he munched his Lays and handled the papers carefully so as not to get grease on them was almost as good as the bag of Doritos that Shane was practically stuffing his face full of.  
He figured that the end of their work day was as good a time as any to ask, so he waited until they'd gathered all of their shit together and Rick was putting all of it into a folder before he opened his mouth. Then closed it. _Shit, he didn't know if he could do this._  
Thinking about bringing a girl home with him from some bar to have sex with Rick just down the hall a little ways... it actually made Shane embarrassed. It felt like he hadn't been this bashful about anything since his first grade school crush. But that was his house, dammit. And he'd be damned if he was too scared to get laid there just because Rick lived with him. It wasn't like he'd ever been afraid to bring home a fling every now and again in the past. And nothing had really changed. But even as he made numerous attempts to convince himself of that fact, he couldn't feel any of his embarrassment diminishing.  
Still, the prospect of ridding himself of these fantasies of Rick for even just a little while was what fueled him to swallow down his pride when they got home from work that afternoon and just come out with the question while Rick was getting dressed, obscured from Shane's view by the bedroom door that separated them. This made it slightly easier. Rick at least couldn't see his burning face if he asked this way. And so, as casually as possible, he spoke through the wood to his partner on the other side, "Hey, uh, Rick?"  
"Yeah?" Rick shot back, pulling a light gray t-shirt over his head.  
A few moments passed, like Shane was working up the courage to ask him something, and then, "Do you care if I don't come with you to visit Wesson today?"  
The question took Rick by surprise and he blinked, pausing just as he was about to buckle his belt. _What could possibly be more important than going to visit their boss in the hospital?_ "What are you gonna do instead?"  
"Have a few drinks at the bar," Shane replied sheepishly.  
Rick felt his brows draw together and the corners of his lips dip down into a frown, "Oh."  
"Yeah. So do you care?"  
"N-No." Rick tried to keep his voice light, he really did. He also tried not to feel a little hurt that Shane hadn't invited him or even offered to wait for Rick or something if he really didn't want to see Wesson all that much, just so the two of them could go together. He hadn't had a drink since Wesson's announcement for his sheriff campaign last weekend. Sudden, violent flashes of fever-hot skin and a soft tongue filling his mouth, hands all over him, pressing him back against a door, moans of unrestrained want and desire and his own unspoken _oh god, touch me, please_ assaulted him and he shivered. But he couldn't recall anymore than that. And that could've all been just another drunken dream he'd had. He'd learned over the last two weeks that he couldn't trust himself not to think of the strangest things while he slept.  
"Great." Shane's voice brought him back. "Thanks, Rick."  
"No problem," Rick sighed. And he didn't come out of his room again until he heard Shane's truck pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road. He didn't think he could stomach watching Shane walk out that door. Bitterly, he remembered the night that he'd walked out on Lori and Carl and couldn't help feeling like the two were somehow similar.  
Actually, he didn't know why he was so upset over Shane going out to the bar to have some fun. Hell, taking some papers over to the hospital only really required one person, and so what if Rick had been kind of looking forward to the drive over with Shane and some of the same childish teasing from that morning before the ballgame tomorrow? Still, maybe he'd make it out of the hospital in time to enjoy a few drinks with Shane after all. If he just hurried... But when he arrived at the hospital, Wesson was all smiles and laughs and he wanted to talk with Rick about how the last two days had been for him at the station while he was in charge for a while before signing anything. An hour turned into two and then three, and after a while, Rick finally accepted the fact that he wasn't going to get out of there in time to meet up with Shane at the bar after all.  
Grimly, he set his jaw behind a smile that he wore for Wesson's sake while the sky outside turned a dull gray and soft rolls of thunder started growling in the distance, a few raindrops dappling the clear glass window pane that Rick stared out of from over Wesson's shoulder the entirety of their conversation.  


Meanwhile, Shane was sitting at the bar, having his shot glass refilled with bourbon for the fourth time as he and the bartender, an older guy who Shane and Rick had once issued a gun permit, exchanged smalltalk while the jukebox in the corner was commandeered by an Alan Jackson fan. The bartender was talking his ear off about the baseball game tomorrow (apparently Shane hadn't paid much attention, but the station had an article about it run in the paper and it had become the talk of the town for much of the week), but the sheriff's deputy was too busy watching a pretty blond in the corner nursing a beer.  
Her blond hair fell in soft waves around the thin column of her pale throat as she took another strong pull from the bottle of Budweiser in her hand, her full, pink lips wrapped around the rim like it held the key to obtaining eternal youth instead of liver failure. As he watched her, Shane found himself licking his lips hungrily. But when she put the empty bottle back on the counter in front of her, Shane caught a glimpse of her blue eyes and felt himself go still. They were pale and noncommittal and she stared ahead like she wasn't seeing, struck blind or dead by some unfathomable source of heartache. And Shane immediately felt a kind of kinship with her, certain that he'd found the one woman here that would come home with him without question, without asking him for anything more than one night of pleasure to help her send the pain away for a short while.  
_Her pale, dead eyes slid over and their gazes locked._  


He didn't really know how exactly he ended up outside in the rain ten minutes later under the dim, yellow ochre glow of the lights that illuminated the bar with her hands all over him, her open palms sliding up his huge, heaving chest as she leaned up and caught his mouth in one bruising, breathless kiss right after the other while they slowly made their way across the little parking lot to where his truck waited, warm and inviting.  
There was a moment after the both of them had slid into the cab, after she'd popped the button of his jeans and freed his already throbbing cock, when he forgot his own name while she wrapped the long, soft (wrongtoosoftnotRick'scallousedpalm) fingers of one hand around the shaft and started jacking him. A gutteral groan assaulted his ears as his eyes rolled back in his head, and he barely registered that the sound had emanated from his own slackjawed mouth. The noise only seemed to spur the girl on, and before long her hand was slick with Shane's pre-cum and he was dangling precariously on the edge of orgasm.  
Blindly, he shot out a hand and shoved her back into the seat, panting and wincing as his cock pulsed an angry red, thwarted of its release.  
His voice sounded thick to his own ears. "What's yer name?"  
"Does it matter?"  
Fuck, the sudden explosion of self-loathing that assaulted him was enough to have him reconsidering this whole damn thing. Thinking about having anonymous sex in the house that he was sharing with his best friend just because he was too weak to put up with his sexual urges toward Rick made his cock start to wilt. But he steeled himself and nodded in the near dark of the truck cab, "If any a my shit goes missin' in the mornin' when you let yourself outta my house, I wanna know who I have to come after."  
"Sounds like this isn't the first time you've picked up a shady woman at a bar before, tiger. You don't have to worry about that from me, though. I promise. My name's Andrea Harrison, and I need this almost as much as you do."


End file.
